


The Art of the Compromise

by LasciviousPeach



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander needs tuition money, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everybody wants to bang George Washington, Explicit Language, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flashbacks, John is the best friend we all need, M/M, Mentions of Death, Miscommunication, Thomas needs a boyfriend, including me, mention of past infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-07 13:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 114,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10361463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LasciviousPeach/pseuds/LasciviousPeach
Summary: When the bursar informs Alexander that his money from Nevis has run dry and that he need six thousand dollars to attend next semester, the man gives up on his dream of graduating from Columbia. That is until the roommate he hates approaches him with an offer he can't refuse.It's simple really: He has to pretend to be Jefferson's boyfriend for spring break, and in return he gets to attend Columbia next semester.Finally Completed!





	1. The Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chapter idea that I've had for Hamilton, so I'm really excited to start writing it. Updates will be.. sporadic. I don't want to set a schedule because I can never keep to it. Feedback is greatly appreciated. 
> 
> (Also, I took some liberties and made Columbia 's spring break three weeks instead of one)

Compromise

[ **kom** -pr _uh_ -mahyz]

(n.) an agreement or a settlement of a dispute that is reached by each side making concessions

* * *

 **ON** Friday, Alexander wakes up to bright light streaming across his face and blaring music playing from Jefferson’s side of the room. Alexander huffs, annoyed, and covers his face with an extra pillow before groaning loud into the early morning.  
  
“Turn that shit down.” He hisses, the malice in his voice not quite as harsh as he intended considering his state of consciousness- or lack of. “You jackass, I’m trying to sleep.” Alexander adds with another groan. The words sound funny dipped in his accent, and he hates how blatantly noticeable it is in the morning.  
  
His comment is met with a loud and annoying laugh, “Hamilton is trying to sleep? Someone call the press, better yet, someone fetch Professor Washington. I’m sure he’d be glad to know his son is finally sleeping.”  
  
Alexander let’s out a low growl at his words and physically fights the urge to get up and shove his foot up Jefferson’s velvet clothed ass. He wants to scream and yell, but settles for clenching his eyes shut tight and hissing into his bed sheets, “Washington’s not my dad and you know it. You’re just mad that someone can actually see through your pathetic attempts at acting suave. Why don’t you finish pampering yourself and then fuck off?”  
  
He expects another retort or maybe a scathing insult, but he hears nothing but silence and Jefferson’s music playing softly in the background - Tchaikovsky he thinks - and then Alexander can almost hear the sound of Jefferson’s eyes rolling. He hears a loud sigh and then the dorm door is slamming shut. Alexander lets out a sigh of relief that the man left; he’s really not in the mood to put up with Jefferson’s shit this morning.  
  
Why the fuck does the universe hate him enough to have stuck him as Jefferson’s roommate? He’s hated the velvet covered prick since freshman orientation when the douche walked in like he owned the place- considering how much money his parents have, that might actually be a true statement. There are fifty reasons he hates Jefferson. The biggest reason being because they disagree on everything: politics, economics, music, popular cinema. Or it could be the fact that Jefferson’s the biggest dick Alexander has ever met.  
  
He absolutely hates that he’s stuck dorming with Jefferson, but he supposes it could be worse. It could be a lot worse, he could be stuck with someone like Aaron Burr.  
  
After laying in the bed for a couple of minutes, Alexander sighs and admits defeat. He knows there’s no way he could fall back asleep after being woken up. He reluctantly climbs out of his bed and swaps his pajama pants for a pair of loose black sweatpants. Alexander pulls his hair back and steals one of Jefferson’s hair ties to tie it back in a low and sloppy bun. He pokes around the other man’s desk for a moment, pocketing a Reese's as payment for Thomas making him get up so early.  
  
He makes his way towards the bathroom, sending a quick text to John as he brushes his teeth.  
  
To John : I'm going to kill Jefferson.  
  
His reply comes a few seconds later.  
  
From John : you can't run for president with homicide on your record  
  
Alexander frowns at the text message and rolls his eyes. John’s got a point, but God he hates Jefferson.  
  
Sighing, he packs his notebooks, pens, and laptop into his satchel and throws it over his shoulder. On a normal day, Alexander would look forward to his Friday classes, but today he would to almost anything to be able to crawl back beneath his sheet and grab a few more hours of sleep.  
  
His Fridays are pretty packed- which is the way he likes it. He’s got Principals of Microeconomics at 11 until 1:30, then he grabs a late lunch - which he eats in the library - and then its World History with Professor Washington from 3 to 5, and then Intro to Foreign Politics from 5:30 to 7. He usually gets back to his dorm at eight, after stopping by John and Laf’s, and then works on homework until three. He always stays up late, but Fridays are the best because Alexander knows his friends can’t lecture him on it because he has no Saturday classes and he can always say he’ll sleep in - not that he does.  
  
His day passes slowly and by the time he gets out of Foreign Politics at 7, Alexander is dead on his feet. He’s got to finish his paper for World History by midnight and he knows there’s no way he’ll get anything done with Jefferson in the dorm. He’ll be much too distracted by the aura of condescension coming off the other man to get anything done. He pulls out his phone and sends a message to Jefferson -a man whose number he only uses under the most dire of situations.  
  
To Jeffershit : Will you be at the dorm tonight?

His reply comes a minute later.  
  
From Jeffershit : At James’, won’t be back until 11 at the earliest  
  
Alexander sighs in relief; as much as he loves arguing with Jefferson, he has to get this paper finished. Washington might favour him as a student, but there’s no way he’d take it easy on him in class.  
  
It’s when he gets back to their dorm, that Alexander checks his email for the first time that day. He usually checks it religiously, but he’s been so busy today that he hasn’t had the opportunity. Alex is really only used to seeing Nike ads, spam, and emails about his classes so he is surprised when the first thing in his mailbox is a message from the Bursar. The message was sent at noon and marked with high importance.  
  
His stomach falls twenty feet to his shoes as he stares at the subject line.  
  
**Student Finances**  
  
He bites his bottom lip and hovers over the email with his mouse. Nervously, Alexander clicks the rectangle and the email opens up fully onto the screen.  
  
He scans the small email quickly, phrases swirling through his brain as he reads the words before him. With each word, his heart begins to thump erratically in his chest.  
  
_Problems with your financial aid_

 _  
_ _Increase amount due_

 _  
_ _Next semester_

  
_Please call (xxx)xxx-xxxx for more information_  
  
Alexander swallows around the lump in his throat and picks up his phone. He shakily dials the number and holds the phone up to his ear. He feels relief flood his veins when someone answers almost immediately.  
  
“Bursar’s office, this is Sybil. How can I help you?”  
  
Alexander breaths, “Hi, I’m Alexander Hamilton. I got an email saying I needed to call. It’s regarding my financial aid.”  
  
“Okay, Mr. Hamilton. One second and I’ll put you through to the Bursar, Mr. Jackson.”  
  
There’s a click and a few seconds later another voice questions, “Yes?”  
  
“It’s Alexander Hamilton, I’m calling in regards to my financial aid.”  
  
There’s the shuffling of papers in the background and a few seconds later the man on the other end speaks, “Yes, Alexander. We need to discuss a change in your tuition for next semester.”  
  
“What about it? I thought everything was already taken care of?” He asks, trying to hide the desperation that’s most likely evident in his voice. He doesn’t need the Bursar to know how panicked he is.  
  
“As we’ve discussed, your scholarships cover the majority of your tuition, including board, but since you’ve used up the remaining funds from your supporters in Nevis, there’s 12,047 dollars and fifty cents that needs to be paid for next semester’s classes. Half of which needs to be paid before the semester begins.”  
  
His heart plummets to his chest at the Bursar’s words. He feels nauseous as he speaks, “That’s like six thousand dollars.”  
  
“I can do the math, if you’d like.” The Bursar hums, oblivious to Alexander’s inner panic, “That’s 6,023 dollars and seventy-five cents due by September sixth. The rest can be paid throughout the semester.”  
  
Fuck, that’s a lot of money.  
  
“Six thousand dollars by September.” He repeats as if saying it again will change the outcome. As if it will put more money in his bank account. Alexander knows for a fact that he’s only got one thousand five hundred dollars saved.  
  
“Yes, Mr. Hamilton 6,000 dollars. Is that a problem? If you’d like to discontinue your studies at Columbia-”  
  
“No! I mean- no, there’s no problem.” Alexander interrupts him quickly. Columbia is his life. He can’t just quit, not when he’s made it this far, not when he’s exceeded his and everyone else’s expectations.  
  
The Bursar is quiet for a moment before he begins to speak again, “Okay Mr. Hamilton. Please contact me if you have any further questions. Have a nice day.”  
  
The man hangs up before Alexander can even reply.  
  
Six thousand dollars in six months? He’s so fucked. Panic courses through his body as he realizes that without this money - he’s going to fail. He’s going to have to drop out of Columbia, and become the failure that everyone said he would.  
  
He ends up typing out a terribly written version of his paper for History and submits it by nine. After turning in his poorly written excuse of a paper, Alexander crawls beneath his comforter and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to deal with life at the moment and being tucked under his comforter is relaxing and he feels too stressed to function. He runs through his finances in his head. He needs to get at least forty-five hundred dollars in six months. That’s seven-fifty a month.  
  
Alexander could pick up a few more jobs, extra shifts at the library, and start tutoring more students. All of that extra work and he still doesn’t think that it would give him enough money. Not to mention that in order to keep his other scholarships, Alexander has to keep up his grades. How can he be expected to keep his grades up when he’s more worried about making money than finishing his homework and studying for tests?  
  
Eventually, the worry gives way to his extreme exhaustion and Alexander lets sleep wash over him.  
  
It’s sometime later that night when Jefferson drags his ass back to their dorm. Alexander can hear when his keys click together and then when he pushes open the door. He’s not as quiet as Alexander had hoped, but for once he doesn’t feel like arguing. He stays quiet and pretends to be asleep as he listens to Jefferson’s soft footsteps across the floor.  
  
Jefferson’s bedside lamp flickers on and the room is illuminated in its soft glow. From his position facing away, Alexander can see Jefferson’s shadow on his wall.  
  
“Hamilton?” Jefferson asks quietly, his voice a soft whisper into the coldness of their room. “Ham.” He says again.  
  
Alexander remains perfectly still and tries to even out his breathing. Jefferson must believe he’s actually asleep because he backs away. Alexander can hear the sound of Jefferson’s bed springs creak when the man sits down. Alex hears the chime of Jefferson’s phone and then muffled cursing from the Virginian.  
  
“Hello?” Jefferson says and Alexander assumes he is on the phone. There’s a pause and he guesses that Jefferson is listening to the person speaking on the other end.  
  
“Yeah mom, I know. I haven’t had a chance to bring it up, but I promise you I will ask him tomorrow.”  
  
Another pause, this one even longer than the last.  
  
“I don’t know ma.” Jefferson begins quietly, “I promise I’ll ask but he might already have plans.”  
  
Jefferson huffs loud into the room and then when he speaks it’s quieter, “Just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean I make him tell me everything.” A pause, “I’ll let you know, okay? I know you want to meet him. I want him to meet you too. I’ll ask and try to convince him to come.” another pause, “Okay, I love you too. Goodnight.”  
  
Jefferson hangs up and groans loudly. Then he whispers into the night air, “I am so fucked.” and Alexander has never had so much in common with the man than he does now.  
  
The light clicks off and Alexander forces his eyes closed.  
  
Jefferson’s dating someone? Who the hell could stand him enough to date him? Maybe Madison?  
  
With a sigh, he forces his curiosity away and lets himself be drawn back into the dark abyss of sleep.  
  
When Alexander wakes up the next morning, he’s surprised to find that the room is silent. There’s no Tchaikovsky, no humming, no intense sun streaming onto his face and into his eyes. It’s quiet, almost too quiet, and he wonders if Jefferson has already left. After all he is one of the only people Alexander knows that gets up early on Saturdays. He sits up on his bed and turns to face Jefferson’s. He’s surprised when he sees the man sitting on his bed, with his head in his hands.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” Alexander asks groggily, squinting his eyes at Jefferson.  
  
“Oh, good you’re awake.” Jefferson sends him a strained smile and Alexander feels like the world has tilted on its axis. He’s not purposely being vexed? And why does Jefferson look so tense?  
  
“What?” He says slowly, “How long have you been sitting there?”  
  
“About an hour,” Jefferson rubs his eyes tiredly with a sigh, “I have a huge favour I need to ask of you.”  
  
“Okay?”  
  
Jefferson closes his eyes and speaks, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” He says it like he wants to throw up just thinking about it.  
  
“I’m sorry, you need me to what?” Alexander gaps at him. It’s not even seven on a Saturday and Jefferson’s asking him to pretend to be his boyfriend?  
  
“My family back in Virginia is under the mistaken assumption that you and I are dating. They want to meet my boyfriend on Spring Break.”  
  
“You told your family that we’re dating?” Alexander questions, “When in reality, we can barely be in the same room together.”  
  
Jefferson rolls his eyes, “I didn’t think things through. I just needed a name and a good backstory. We’re roommates, I figured I could use an old cheesy trope. My mom loved it, but I didn’t think they’d actually want to meet you.” He all but groans out the last sentence. “We can leave the 5th and start back on the 27th.”  
  
“You expect me to spend three weeks in Virginia with you and your family?” Alexander snorts, “There’s no way in hell I’d ever help you.”  
  
“Alexander, please. I hate you and you hate me, but I need your help.” He pleads, “You know I wouldn’t be asking if I had any other option. Please, I’ll do anything. What do you want? Name it.”  
  
“Why can’t you just tell them that we broke up?”  
  
Jefferson winces and looks down at the floor, “My mom is convinced that New York isn’t good for me. She says that I’m too lonely here and wants me to move back to Virginia and settle down.” He looks like he’s in physical pain as he tells Alexander this, “If my mom thinks we broke up, she'll make me move back to Virginia and probably take away my trust fund. Please, Alexander. I’m desperate here. Name anything you want.”  
  
Alexander thinks about it for a moment, “I want your and Madison’s votes in Student Government for the remainder of this semester and next semester. No questions asked.”  
  
Wait, he might not even be here next semester.  
  
“Deal.” Jefferson says without a second’s hesitation.  
  
Alexander already knows he’s going to say no to Jefferson’s offer. He’d rather kiss George King than spend three weeks with Jefferson, especially if those three weeks are spent stuck in the South. Regardless of the fact he already knows he’s going to decline, Alex decides to have a little more fun with the asshole.  
  
“I also want 6,000 dollars.” He says, knowing full well that Jefferson would never give him that.  
  
He is not, however, expecting Jefferson’s reply.  
  
“Deal.”  
  
Alexander gaps at the man. 6,000 dollars for three weeks of dating? He has to be joking. Hell, Alexander was joking when he requested it!  
  
“Nice try, douche bag.”  
  
Jefferson looks at him, “6,000 dollars is nothing to me. Please, Alexander.”  
  
He hates Jefferson, hates him with a burning passion. There’s probably never going to be anyone that Alexander hates as much as he hates the Virginian, but Alexander knows he’s got less than a fourth of the amount he needs for next semester in his bank account and he really wants to be at Columbia next semester.  
  
“If I were to agree. What exactly would the three weeks consist of?” Alexander asks slowly, unable to believe that he’s even considering this.  
  
Jefferson breaths a sigh of relief that Alexander had wavered, “Three weeks of pretending to stand me. You have to try to get along with my family, try to get along with me. Just three weeks of pretending to be a good boyfriend. You'll get the money before we come back.”  
  
Alexander takes a deep breath and thinks of his options. He realizes that he doesn’t really have any other ones. Even with two extra jobs, overtime at the library, and three more students to tutor, there’s no way he’d get 750 dollars each month. Plus he still has to take into account the amount of money he spends on food, pens, paper, etc.  
  
The cons are obvious: spending time with Jefferson, being in the South, _spending time with Jefferson ._  
  
The pros are that it’ll give him enough money to stay at Columbia next semester, and plus it’s only three weeks.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Alexander says that words he’d never thought he’d say, “Okay. We have a deal.”  
  
Jefferson lets out a relieved sigh and closes his eyes, tipping his head forward into his hands.  
  
Alexander frowns at the man across from him, “I’m going to need this in writing though,”


	2. The Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette schemes and Jefferson explains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the incredible feedback on chapter one!   
> If you want to say hi I'm over at [willieverbesatisfied](https://willieverbesatisfied.tumblr.com/) or you can just yell with me about everything Hamilton/deh/the great comet

Alexander is standing in his dorm, staring absentmindedly at his bed as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to pack for a trip to the South. His suitcase is propped up against the wall closest to his bed and his entire closet is laying around the room. He can feel the beginning of a headache coming on, probably because he only had a few cups of coffee, and his blood is definitely more caffeine than anything else. In the end Alexander ends up calling Lafayette and begging the Frenchman to come over. He doesn’t really want to tell anyone about the sticky predicament he’s thrown himself headfirst into, but he needs help packing and Lafayette is one of the few people he knows- and can stand -that’s visited the Jefferson estate. Lafayette is noticeably confused by the phone call, because as far as Alex’s friends had known, he wasn’t traveling anywhere for spring break. Alexander begs him, and promises to explain everything once he arrives and Lafayette grudgingly accepts and tells him that he’s on his way.

It’s as Alexander is staring at his empty suitcase that he realizes he could have just asked Jefferson. He hates the man, though, and Jefferson wasn’t returning to their room until later and by then Alexander was expected to packed. He figures Lafayette was the safest and smartest choice.

Jefferson had grouchily told Alexander that they were leaving at six PM sharp, and that if he wasn’t ready by the time Jefferson got home, his body wouldn’t be found. Alexander is pretty sure the Virginian was bluffing, but he’s got too many things on his list of _Things I have yet to accomplish_ , and there’s no way he’s dying before he checks off each one.

Lafayette arrives at their dorm a little before three, and Alexander knows that he made the right choice because the man shows up with his hands full of two coffee cups and a bag of blueberry scones. Alexander snatches them from his friend’s hands and takes a long gulp from the cup. It’s warm and flows across his tongue in a river of caffeine that he desperately needs. He can feel Lafayette’s eyes on him, and Alexander figures it’s best to get this no doubt _lengthy_ conversation out of the way because he really needs to start packing if he wants to survive the night.

“Thanks for the coffee, Laf.” He says, trying to start the conversation on a high note.

Lafayette doesn’t take the bait, instead he raises a perfect eyebrow and smirks.

With a sigh, Alexander turns to gesture at the empty suitcase sitting petulantly on his bed, “Can you at least help me pack first? I’ll explain while we pack.”

Lafayette purses his glossed lips and flashes Alexander a smile, “Fine, but you better not leave out a single detail.”

Alexander rolls his eyes and gestures towards the clothes that cover his room. Once he’s sure that the majority of Lafayette’s attention is on picking out clothes instead of teasing him, Alexander starts to explain.

“I woke up the other morning and Jefferson was sitting on his bed staring at me. Honestly, I was a little creeped out at first. Like, who just stares at someone when they're sleeping, you know? Anyways, after his initial blubbering, Jefferson finally explained that he told his family that we were dating, and that they wanted to meet me. He practically begged me to pretend to be his boyfriend over spring break.”

Lafayette gives Alexander an incredulous look, which only makes him chuckle as he sits down on Jefferson’s bed. He scratches his neck and sighs, “It took me a good ten minutes to wake up enough to understand what he was actually asking.”

Lafayette pauses from where he’s folding a purple shirt - one that Alexander is pretty sure belongs to Jefferson - and turns to face him. “What do you get out of this?”

Alexander swallows and wonders to what extent of honesty he should go with here. On one hand, Lafayette is one of his best friends- second to only John. He trusts Lafayette more than he ever thought he would, and he knows that there’s no way Lafayette would ever tell anyone about the deal but at the same time he can’t tell Lafayette for the same reason that he can’t tell John.

They’d shove their money at him.

Alexander is under no illusion. He knows that both John and Lafayette have money. He knows that they come from wealthy families and that in modern terms - they’re both _loaded_. Sure, John doesn’t have the best relationship with his father, but for all the things Alexander could say about Henry Laurens - he can’t say that Henry has ever financially abandoned his son. If he asked John for money - whatever amount he could ever need - he knows that John wouldn’t hesitate in helping him. Even though Lafayette’s family is back in France, Alexander knows they still support their son in every way possible. Just like with John, Alexander knows that Lafayette would provide him with any sum of money he should ever need.

Alexander knows that if he told either of them about his current financial problem, they’d give him the money. He doesn’t want that though. He doesn’t want them to pity him because he’s a poor orphan that can’t support himself through college. He doesn’t want them to know that he wasn’t good enough to pay his way through college. He doesn’t want them to know that he’s _failed_.

In the end, Alexander decides that he’s not going to tell Lafayette the _entire_ story. He knows that lying by omission is just as bad as lying straight up, but he makes the decision to protect himself and Jefferson so he’s going to pretend like it’s not frowned upon.

“I get Jefferson and Madison’s votes in student government for the remainder of this year and all of next year.”

Lafayette tucks the purple shirt into his suitcase and shoots Alexander another frown, “That’s it? You didn’t negotiate anything else? It sounds like he was in a pretty tough position. It doesn’t sound like you to not try for anything else. Especially when he’s so helpless.”

Alexander stares up at the ceiling as Lafayette adds a pair of sweatpants and two pairs of jeans into the suitcase, “He might have been desperate but Jefferson’s not dumb. We made a compromise, I’m surprised I got what I did.”

Lafayette raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t comment. Internally, Alexander takes a relieved sigh and sits up to help Lafayette add clothes. After a second, Lafayette looks back up at him.

“Did Jefferson say why he told his family that you were his boyfriend? You hate each other, non?”

  
Alexander shrugs, standing up from Jefferson’s bed and adding a few pairs of socks and boxers to the suitcase, “He said that it was a good excuse since we’re roommates.”

Lafayette doesn’t seem convinced of that either, but he - once again - has the decency to not comment.

Thankfully, the subject gets changed from Alexander and Jefferson to Lafayette and his pining over Professor Washington.  

With the mention of Professor Washington, all thoughts of Alexander’s weird compromise with Jefferson seems to flee the Frenchman’s mind and he starts talking about the colour of Washington’s eyes.

It was strange at first, having one of his best friends utterly in love with his favourite teacher, and the man that Alexander looked up to more than anyone else. He grew to find it quite charming though, and although Washington seems to be oblivious to Lafayette’s affections, Lafayette refuses to quit his helpless pining.

Lafayette’s metaphorical sonnet is cut short by keys in the door and Jefferson’s sharp laughter. The man enters the room and tosses his Purple Coat™ onto his bed. Alexander can see that he’s on the phone with someone.

“Yeah, Mads.” Jefferson breathes into the phone, “I’ll see you then. Later.”

Jefferson hangs up the phone and turns to face Lafayette and Alexander.

“Honestly, Hamilton. How are you not packed?” He almost growls at Alexander, “Lafayette, nice to see you.”

Alexander rolls his eyes as Lafayette kisses both of Jefferson’s cheeks in an over dramatic display of affection. 

“Mon ami, it’s good to see you too.” Lafayette smiles at Jefferson, lips pulling tight over his beautiful shinning teeth.

“Hamilton, finish packing so we can leave.” Jefferson snaps and Alexander scoffs. He zips the suitcase and pulls it off the bed, so that it hits the floor with a loud _thunk_.

“All ready, _Jefferson_.” He hisses out the name with extra venom. His temper is extremely short today and Jefferson’s only been in the room for five minutes and he feels like screaming.

“Lafayette. I’ll see you when I get back, okay?” Alexander tells his friend with a smile. Lafayette pulls him into a crushing hug and laughs into his ear.

“Ah, I will miss you, mon ami.” Lafayette pulls back and frowns again, “Does John know about your new _boyfriend_?”

“No,” Alexander shakes his head, “I’d rather he not know it’s fake until I get back. I don’t want another lecture about making bad choices.”

Lafayette smiles at him and releases Alexander from his grip.

“Thomas,” Lafayette says and wraps his arms around the Virginian and pulling him into a hug. Lafayette must whisper something into Jefferson’s ear because the man pushes him away and frowns.

“Don’t.” He snaps and Alexander raises an eye. He knows Jefferson can be short with people - he’s seen the way he deals with freshman - but he’s never seen Jefferson snap at any of his close friends.

  
“I know that you remember,” Lafayette protest and Jefferson sighs louder.

“Don’t.” He repeats, but his words have lost the razor like quality that they held before. Now he just sounds exhausted and exasperated.

Lafayette hold his hands up in a surrendering motion and Jefferson turns to Alexander.

“Let’s go?” He asks and for once Alexander doesn’t try to challenge him. Instead, he grabs his suitcase, school satchel, and jacket and follows Jefferson out the door. He turns back around at the last moment to look at Lafayette.

He catches the soft smirk that gets thrown his way.

He steps out into the soft afternoon sun and silently follows Jefferson to his car. Alexander hates that while he was stuck riding the bus each day, Jefferson got to use his ridiculously expensive black convertible BMW.

Alexander walks to the passenger side and tucks his suitcase gently into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat. He shuts the door with a slam and pulls his seat belt down over his shoulder and clicking it into place. Jefferson gets in beside him and puts the car into drive.

“Are you going to put the roof down?” Alexander asks softly; he glances up from his feet to look at Jefferson.

The reply is curt and so definite that Alexander doesn’t bother questioning it or arguing, “No.”

He sighs loudly - and childishly - and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks out the window. Alexander wants Jefferson to hear him, and he hopes he’s being as annoying as he thinks he is.

The ride is awkwardly silent for a few minutes. The only sound is their breathing and the top 40’s music playing quietly on the radio. After what seems like eternity - and is probably the longest Alexander has ever gone without talking - words seem to flow from his mouth unwillingly.

“How long does your family think we’ve been dating?”

Jefferson’s eyes don’t leave the road as he speaks, “Our three month anniversary happens to fall over spring break.”

Alexander’s eyes snap up to the taller man, “They think we’ve been dating for three months? How have you kept this up for three months?” He asks incredulously

“I tell my mom every time you do something stupid, but I make it seem charming. It's hard, trust me, it’s not very easy to make you seem desirable.”

Alexander bristles at that, but keeps his mouth shut. He’s stupid, but not stupid enough to piss Jefferson off right now. First off, Jefferson’s driving and secondly, he actually needs the six thousand dollars if he wants to attend college next semester. Instead of the smart ass retort that rests on the tip of his tongue, Alexander settles for his original question, “If we’ve been dating for so long, aren’t there things about you and your family that I should know?”

His question earns him a glance from Jefferson, whose lips are turned upside down in a frown. He sighs and his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. “Where do I start?” He asks.

“From the beginning?” Alexander replies, and for once there’s nothing obnoxious or mocking in his voice. Just plain curiosity.

“Alright.” Jefferson breathes, “My dad, Peter, comes from old money. He met my mom, Jane, during high school and they got married right out of college. My dad’s parents died and he inherited Monticello. They had me, my two sisters, and my little brother. Then my dad died and it was just us and mom. Being old money comes with expectations. The first being that we had to be close with other old money families. That’s how I met James Madison, who also comes from a prominent Virginian family.” Jefferson pauses for a second and glances back over at Alexander, “Speaking of James. He’s probably going to be spending some time at Monticello during spring break. He doesn’t know anything about this, and I’m not planning on telling him. It would just complicate things and I think the less people who know about this, the better.”

“I agree.” Alexander chimes in, although he’s pretty sure Jefferson doesn’t give a damn if he agrees or not.

It’s silent for a few moments and then Alexander speaks again, “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Is there anything you want to know?”

Alexander hums quietly and looks out the passenger window, “What are your siblings’ names and how old are they?”

“My sisters are Mary and Elizabeth. Mary’s one year older than me, Bet - that’s what I call Elizabeth - is a year younger than me. My brother, Peter, is five years younger.”

Alexander nods as Jefferson speaks, pleased to see that he seems so much more human when he talks about his family. He looks like an actual human being, and not some artificial life form, whose sole purpose is to vex Alexander.

“Do you need to know anything about me?” Alexander asks skeptically. He honestly doesn’t want to dwell into his fucked up childhood, especially not to someone as rude as Jefferson. He can already hear the taunts he’d no doubt get.

Jefferson lets out a snort, “No. I don’t want to know, and I definitely don’t care.”

  
Alexander tries his best not to feel affronted, and he turns to look out the window so the feelings don’t show up on his face. He’s not sure why it surprises him every time Jefferson’s an asshole, because he is literally always an asshole. A small part of Alexander - a part he’ll never acknowledge and a part he hates purely for existing - wants to hope that one time Jefferson is going to open his mouth and not say something that makes the Caribbean want to throttle him.

He doesn’t have very high hopes that that will ever happen, though.

Alexander’s phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a new text message from John.

 _From john :_ I have to hear that you’re dating Jefferson from Lafayette? You couldn’t have mentioned that? Maybe tacked it onto your message about wanting to kill him the other day?

Alexander sighs loudly at the message. Of course Lafayette would tell John that he was dating Jefferson, and not even an hour after he leaves. He knows that he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from his friends, but he also knows that he can’t risk telling anyone else. He knows that John’s going to be super pissed and decides that damage control can wait until later. He responds after a few seconds, with what he hopes is an appropriate reply.

 _To john_ : It’s complicated, okay? I should have told you but I knew you were going to be pissed. I’ll call you and explain when I get to Virginia?

John sends back a thumbs up emoji and Alexander knows that he can’t be too mad. He sighs loudly and rests his head against the cool window. Alexander catches Jefferson looking at him and purposely stares out his window to avoid eye contact.

He closes his eyes and tries to conjure up an idea of Jefferson’s family in his eyes. He sees a distant mom, and exact replicas of Jefferson for his siblings. He figures that to raise someone as douchey as Jefferson, they must be as douchey as Jefferson.

Great, he can’t wait to spend his spring break with five different but equally terrible Jeffersons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "No you're not going to add Washette."
> 
> Oops my finger slipped.
> 
> (It's just background so don't worry if you don't ship them)


	3. The Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Jefferson and his (fake) boyfriend are coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes another mediocre chapter that I finally posted. As always, thanks for your comments and kudos!
> 
> I finally finished the outline for this story, so hopefully updates will be more frequent. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

“Rise and shine, darlin.” a silky southern voice stirs Alexander from his deep slumber. Alexander hums as he listens to the southern drawl he’s so familiar waking up to. He rolls his head to the side and blinks blearily at the Virginian next to him. Jefferson’s dark eyes are looking at him. Alexander looks away and glances out the passenger side window. The sun is maybe an hour from setting, lowly sitting on the breach of the horizon. The sky taking on hues of pinks, purples, and oranges.

“What?” He groans, looking back and letting his eyes linger on where Jefferson’s hands are clutching the steering wheel so hard that he thinks it might snap under his grip.

“Welcome to Monticello, Alexander.” Jefferson announces and lets his fingers drum fast against the wheel.

He looks up and feels his eyes grow wide and his mouth fall open just a bit. The house - mansion would probably be a more appropriate word - is breathtakingly beautiful. Burnt red bricks piled high and topped with piercingly white trim, a white dome at the top of the house, and four matching thick white pillars at the doors. His mouth falls open and he suppresses an eye roll when he realizes that Jefferson must be richer than he had thought.

“Damn,” Is the first thing Alexander can say after he manages to pull his eyes away. The second he says it, he immediately wishes he could take it back because Jefferson scoffs and rolls his eyes. Jefferson parks his car in silence and turns to glance at Alexander.

“It’s beautiful, Jefferson.” He says slowly, letting his eyes trace the flowers the surround the house.

“I know.” Jefferson speaks and Alexander turns to frown at him. “Also,” Jefferson starts, “If we’ve been dating for three months, I think you’re allowed to call me Thomas.”

Alexander frowns but nods, because he supposes that _Jefferson-_ Thomas has a point. He unbuckles his seat belt and climbs out of the car. He walks around to Thomas’s side of the car and stands there with his arms crossed.

He let's Thomas grab their luggage, and takes the opportunity to tie his hair back in a low bun.

Thomas rolls his eyes when he sees Alexander, “Let's get introductions over with so I can pretend like this wasn't a terrible idea.” He all but growls. Thomas starts walking up the driveway, his long legs leaving Alexander behind him. By the time Alexander catches up to him, it’s at the front entrance.  

Alexander feels a little nervous as Thomas opens the door and they step inside. The first thing that he notices is the smell. He has little recollection of his adolescent years, but the smell of Thomas's house somehow reminds him of his own childhood home. Soft, warm, comfortable. He follows Thomas down a long hallway that branches off, and through a few rooms until he hears the distinct sound of laughter. Before they step in, Thomas grabs Alexander’s hand and laces their fingers together.

They both take a collective deep breath and step into what Alexander assumes is the kitchen. A few steps forward and they’re confronted by five faces.

There are two girls sitting at the counter, a tall male whose arms are wrapped around one of the girls, a younger boy and an older woman standing in front of the stove.

Almost immediately one of the girl who was sitting at the counter is up out of her chair and throwing herself into Thomas’s arms. She wraps her arms around his neck and let's out a squeal of joy. Thomas pulls his hand away from Alexander to wrap it around her back.

“Thomas, thank God you're here. Our family is heckling me and I need someone to stand up for me.” She pulls back from the hug just enough for Alexander to get a good look at her. He almost gasps when he realizes how similar she looks to Thomas.

At once she seems to notice the man next to her and her eyes flicker to Alexander, who's still standing awkwardly by their side. Her red lips tip in the corner and curve into an alluring smile as she attempts to untangles herself from Thomas.

“You must be Alexander.” She says in a southern drawl, not quite as pronounced as Thomas’s but still noticeable, “I'm Mary; it's so nice to meet my baby brother’s boyfriend. Thomas over here just won't shut up about you.” She smiles sweetly and then captures him into a hug.

Over her shoulder, he see’s Thomas rolls his eyes so he tries not to think too much about her words.

Thomas chokes out a laugh and then Mary’s pulling at his arm so he's forced farther into the kitchen.

She introduces him to everyone at once.

Their mother, Jane as she requested he call her, smiles sweetly at him and kisses his cheek. He gets a firm handshake from Peter, and two shyly spoken hi’s from Elizabeth and Mary’s boyfriend, John.

They immediately envelope Alexander into their conversation and he relaxes just a little. At first glance, they’re nothing like Alexander had expected. Where he expected cold and distant, they were warm and inviting, trying their best to make Alexander comfortable. It’s a startling difference between the Thomas he goes to college with, and the Thomas who's standing next to him and laughing with his siblings. He looks at ease, his arm comfortably slung around Alexander.

“Dinner will be shortly, if you boys want to join us?” Jane declares, alternating her attention between two bubbling pots on the stove. Whatever she’s cooking smells amazing, and reminds Alexander that he hasn’t eaten since he left New York.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Mrs. Jefferson?” He asks somewhat sheepishly. Thomas hasn’t spoken directly to him since they got to the kitchen and he can’t help but feel a little off kilter in such a new - and unexpected - environment.

Jane smiles kindly at him and shakes her head, “No darlin’,” She says and Alexander can hear the southern accent in her voice, “Why don’t you and Thomas go put your bags up in his room. You can relax and I’ll call y’all down here when supper's ready. And I thought I told you to call me Jane.”

“Okay, Jane.” Alexander replies, trying to figure out which part he should address first. Probably the fact that she’s expecting them to sleep in the same room. He supposes that a boyfriend wouldn’t complain about being able to spend the night with his boyfriend, so Alexander won't either. He secretly hopes that maybe Thomas will voice some sort of concern.

He, of course, doesn’t.

“Thank you, ma.” Thomas kisses her on the cheek and the grabs Alexander’s hand before he can do something stupid like beg her to put them in separate rooms. He sighs because he's really not ready to face Thomas’s fluctuating moods yet.

“Let’s go, babe.” Thomas says in a voice soft and sticky like syrup. He tags the pet name obnoxiously on the end, and Alexander wants to slap him for his lack of subtlety. He doesn’t slap him, or do anything else stupid, instead he lets himself be dragged towards the stairway, and after a confusing path down two long corridors and a few more doorways, they stop in front of a mahogany door.

Thomas reaches out slowly, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. The door swings open and Alexander sees Thomas’s room for the first time.

It’s safe to say that it’s not what he was expecting, but nothing about this trip seems to be what he expected.

Instead of the obnoxiously obvious displays of wealth that Alexander had expected, the room is subtle and inviting. The hardwood floor is warm under Alexander’s feet as he steps inside with Thomas behind him. The walls are a smooth cream, white trim following the door arches and the ceiling. The windows are thrown open, letting copious amounts of light flood the room. Alexander follows it with his eyes, the warm setting sun casting a glow across the room.

Alexander let’s his eyes study the room in front of him. It’s unexpected, but at the same time expected. There are books _everywhere_. Sitting on Thomas’s desk, a stack against the window, a couple on the edge of his dresser, two on his bedside table. It’s not surprising, he dorms with Thomas, so he knows how much he reads, but it’s different seeing them undisturbed and unplanned.

He sees a few about political theory, several works of John Locke, Shakespeare, and Homer too. Alexander turns around to look at Thomas who stands completely still; his face unreadable.

“It’s very you.” Alexander says slowly - he’s really trying not to offend anyone at the moment -, “I just wish you could keep your side of our dorm room this tidy.”

He thinks he sees the twitch of Thomas’s lips, and he can’t help the pleased smile that spreads across his own face.

“The bed’s big enough that we can share,” Thomas murmurs as he walks across the room and Alexander feels his muscles tense unintentionally. He hasn’t shared a bed since - well, let's just say it’s been awhile, “Of course if you’re really uncomfortable with it you can sleep on the ground.”

Alexander rolls his eyes and makes an annoyed sound deep in the back of his throat, “I’m not a child. I think I can handle sharing a bed with you.”

Thomas’s phone interrupts whatever he was going to say and he pulls it out. “Dinner’s ready. Don’t screw this up for me.” He groans as a warning.

Alexander snorts and follows Thomas back to the kitchen. He tries not to think about the way Thomas’s hand fits in his so nicely.

He ends up sitting between Thomas and Elizabeth, while Mary, John, and Peter sit across from them, and Jane sits at the head of the table.

Dinner is spectacular, and Alexander gets to learn a little more about each of Thomas’s siblings. He learns that Mary is studying medicine and enjoys shopping and dancing. Elizabeth is in her general studies and likes poetry and music. Peter is the sporty type and plans to be a writer. In turn, he learns more about Thomas too. There a small remarks that his siblings make that sheds light on him.

As they finish dinner, John and Mary volunteer to do the dishes and Alexander is left siting at the table with Thomas's hand in his own. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” Alexander asks quietly, his fingers tightening in Thomas's.

“No, Alex.” Jane says, “I’m sure you boys are tired from your trip. Why don’t you go rest up? We thought about having a picnic tomorrow. It’s suppose to be really nice out.”

Alexander relents and finds himself wrapped in her arms. He’s struck with a considerable warmth in his chest, and he realizes how long it's been since someone’s mother has hugged him. He hugs back and ignores the emotion that races up his chest and into his throat.

She pulls away and grabs Thomas. She hugs him tightly, and Alexander can barely pick up what she whispers into his ear, “It’s good to have you back, Thomas. You’ve got a sweet one there.”

Thomas pulls back with a smile that matches her’s, “It’s good to be back, ma.” He looks at Alexander from the corner of his eyes, “And I know I do. We’ll see y’all in the morning.”

He grabs Alexander’s hand and they walk silently back up to his room. Once there, Thomas grabs his phone and walks back towards the door, “I’m going to call James.” He waves vaguely around the room, “Read or write or something. I don’t care.”

Alexander turns back to Thomas’s room and looks around. He figures that he has a few minutes to snoop around. He finds a few pictures of Thomas and Madison, smiling at the camera. A few personal writings, a couple of poems. A minute later, he tires of snooping and decides to call John and get through this lengthy and no doubt painful conversation.

John - unsurprisingly - answers on the second ring.

“Holy fuck Alexander. You’re dating Jefferson?” John says in lieu of a hello.

“Hi, nice to hear from you too, and it’s complicated, John. He’s.. He’s different, okay? More than I expected, more than I thought.”

John sighs on the other end, “You’re dating Jefferson.”

Alexander hums, “I’m dating Jefferson.”

John snorts and Alexander can’t help but let himself laugh a little too. It sounds so ridiculous saying out loud.

“This is crazy, Alex, you know that right? John laughs, “You literally just got dumped-” He pauses and Alexander tenses, “What about Eliza, Alex? I thought you wanted to get her back.”

Eliza.

Her name alone makes his heart hurt in his chest.

“She broke up with me, John.”

“Because you cheated on her, Alexander.” John interrupts with a sigh, “are you just over her? It was three weeks ago that you were crying at my house until three in the morning.”

Of course he’s not over her. Everything he does is plagued by her eyes, her smile, the gentle brush of her fingertips against his jaw.

“Yes I’m over her,” He lies through his teeth, “I’m with Thomas now, and I’m happy.”

“Does Jefferson know why you broke up?” John asks and Alexander can’t help but roll his eyes. Who's he trying to protect now, him or Jefferson?

“Does it matter, John? It’s over. I made a mistake and I’ve owned up to it.”

“Just thought your boyfriend might like to know.”  John sighs.

“Okay John, I’m going to hang up before you piss me off, okay? I’m happy and I know what I’m doing okay? Can’t you trust me? I’m not a child.” Alexander speaks and listens to what he assumes is Jefferson’s returning footsteps approaching the outside of their door.

“Okay Alex. You know I’m just looking out for you, right?” John pleads with him through the phone.

Thomas walks back into the room and Alexander turns to face away from him, looking out at the sun, “I know, John. I’ve got to go.”

“I love you, Alex. Call me tomorrow?”

He swallows, “I love you too John, and yeah I’ll call you.”

He hangs up and turns to face Thomas who is already laying on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling.

“We should get some sleep.” Thomas says, not quite making eye contact with Alexander. He flicks the lights off and rolls back onto the bed. 

  
“Yeah.” Alexander says lamely, sliding into the bed beside Thomas. He feels too tense and Thomas must feel it because he lets out a sharp, “Stop fucking thinking and go to sleep.”

Alexander chuckles, glad that some part of their dynamic has returned. He sighs, rolling away from him and staring at the mirror that hangs on Jefferson’s wall. He takes a deep breath and let’s his eyes close.

It’s as the sun finally sets beneath the horizon, the final legacy of purples, oranges, and pinks fading from the sky, that Alexander hears the gentle whisper of words from behind him.

“Goodnight Alex.”

  
He can only manage a hum in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson's family will become more important as we move through this story.


	4. The Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander misses Eliza and Mary just wants to go clubbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you guys that I can't stick to a schedule. Thanks for your comments and kudos, I love you all. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think!

Alexander blinks open his eyes and stares forward at the alarm clock on the dresser. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus on the red numbers and when they do he groans because it's not even nine o’clock yet. He curses his body for never letting him sleep in, and tries to tuck himself back into the blankets. He breathes in deeply and lets the sweet smell of coconut flood his senses. Alexander closes his eyes and tries to relax. His mouth tastes bad thought, and his hair is sticking uncomfortably to his too hot body. He goes to kick off the blankets but his movements halt when he feels an arm tighten around his waist. Alexander’s body freezes and he takes a deep breath. Slowly, as if the entire world is balancing on his shoulders, he starts rotating his body. He finally ends up on his back with Thomas’s arm still wrapped around his waist. Alexander lets his head fall to the side and look at the Virginian next to him.

Words cannot describe the relief that rushes through his veins when he sees that the man is still asleep. Thomas’s face is smushed against the pillow, mouth parted an inch, and his dark curls framing his face like a halo. Somehow, Thomas looks different, maybe it’s the morning light or maybe it's because Alexander is exhausted, but he looks different. Alexander feels his heartbeat start to return to normal, and he lets his head relax into the pillows. He just needed to know that Thomas wasn’t knowingly cuddling with him, because they might be fake dating but Alexander needs some semblance of their normal push and pull balance to be maintained. Since Thomas seems to be asleep, Alexander allows his eyes to rake over the other man’s face, it’s something that even Alexander can admit is a little creepy. But in his defense, Alexander can’t comprehend how different Thomas looks when he’s sleeping. His lips aren’t pursed in that condescending smirk, and his eyes aren’t narrowed in suspicion. He’s relaxed and it makes him look so much younger and less cynical.

Alexander remembers a day, many months ago now, that Eliza had whispered almost the same thing to him as they laid curled up in her bed, unable and unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s embrace. “You look so much younger when you’re sleeping, Alex.” She had murmured sweetly into his ear, while her fingers gently stroked across his jaw. Her hair tickled his bare chest as she leaned forward to bring their mouths together in a sweet kiss. Thinking back to that moment, Alexander can almost smell her lilac shampoo and the soft sheets that wrapped around their bodies.

His nostalgia is interrupted by memories of another women. Memories that are doused in the spicy cinnamon perfume that overloaded his senses, the feeling of scratchy motel sheets rubbing against his body, and sneaking back to his dorm under a cloak of darkness and never bothering to correct his friends’ presumptuous ideas of where he was spending all his time.

At once, he feels disgusted and ashamed by himself. The memories seem to seep through his body and onto his skin. He remembers so much of those nights, and now he wishes that he could just forget. He feels like he needs to scrub the memory of her red lipstick from his skin, but he knows that the impression is forever tattooed on him, unable to be removed and unable to be forgotten.

Alexander gently pushes Thomas’s arm away from him, carefully checking and double checking to make sure that the Virginian hasn’t awoken. Alexander’s feet pat softly against the hardwood floor as he crosses silently from the bed to the connected bathroom.

He flicks the light switch up and winces as the harsh lights brighten the room. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and barely suppresses another wince. His hair is starting to look greasy and the bags under his eyes seemed to have intensed in their purplish hue, despite the solid eight hours of sleep he had gotten. Alexander rummages through the cabinets until he finds the towels and then grabs two and puts them by the sink.

He places his hands on the sink and lets his weight fall forward until his forehead is resting against the glass mirror. The glass is cool and offers him a brief reprieve from his running imagination.

Silently, and as if in a trance, Alexander strips out of his clothes and leaves them piled beside the toilet. He turns the shower on, making sure the water gets as hot as he can stand it. He steps inside the shower, feet planting firmly on the slick floor, and immediately feels some of the tension begin to leak from his shoulders and back. He stands under the hot stream and lets it run off his body in thick rivulets before falling to the shower floor and swirling down the drain. He grabs one of the bottles sitting on the shelf next to him, and squirts a handful of Thomas’s shampoo into his palm. He runs it through his hair, scrubbing his scalp with his fingernails, as if he can somehow erase the memories from his mind with nothing but his bare hands.

Alexander takes a deep inhale and lets it out. The overpowering smell of coconut from the shampoo floods his nose and he covers his mouth with his hand. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why was he in Virginia playing house with the guy he hates when he should be in New York trying to figure out how to win Eliza back? He hurt her so bad; was there even a chance he could get her to forgive him? To take him back?

He turns the nozzle and the shower shuts off. Alexander steps outside, his feet almost slipping before he regains his balance. He stares at his body in the mirror and then wraps one towel around his waist and uses the other one to rub his face dry. He squeezes his hair with the second towel and manages to wring the majority of the water out. Alexander turns around and opens the door, stepping back into Thomas’s room. His feet are warm against the cold hardwood floor as he stops to pick of his suitcase from beside the closet. Alexander lugs his suitcase onto the bed and begins sorting through his clothes in search of something to wear. The sun is shining brightly through the window and it feels warm against his skin, so he assumes that cool clothing is the way to go. After a few minutes of debating, he settles on a pair of khaki shorts and a dark grey tee shirt that he’s pretty sure belongs to Lafayette. He picks up a Columbia Baseball sweatshirt that he _knows_ is John Lauren’s, and adds it to the pile just encase it gets chilly.

He runs his fingers through the length of his hair and feels tiny droplets of water land on his chest. Alexander shakes his hair and lifts it up so that it stops sticking to the back of his neck. He hears a sharp inhale of breath and drops his hair. He looks up to find Thomas’s dark eyes looking at him from the bed. He watches as Thomas pulls his eyes away from Alexander’s bare chest to look out the window. Alexander feels his cheeks flush red from embarrassment and mortification because he really doesn’t need Thomas to start mocking his body. He knows that he’s gained a little weight since he and Eliza had broken up and he doesn’t need Thomas to be a dick and point it out. He’s not terribly out of shape, but maybe a little pudgy around his hips and stomach, and he’s always been insecure about his body and the last thing he wants on this trip is Thomas pointing out his insecurities and using his weaknesses against him.  

Alexander stands there frozen, unsure about what it is he’s supposed to do. He feels terribly exposed and vulnerable, standing here in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He feels awkward going back into the bathroom to change, but it’s not like he’s not going to change in front of Thomas. They’ve been roommates for a semester and Alexander hasn’t had to change in front of him once. It helps that Alexander is almost always up before the sun rises, which means he gets changed and leaves before Thomas wakes up. And sometimes it’s the other way around, with Thomas leaving so that he has the room alone. Either way, he’s never had to worry about changing in front of him before.

Thomas snorts and Alexander prepares himself for some disparaging comment, but Thomas says nothing.

  
Instead, the man crawls out from beneath the comforter and stretches his arms up over his head. Alexander hears the bones in Thomas’s back pop, and sees a glimpse of dark skin peeking out from under his tank top. He swallows around the newly forming lump in his throat and then Thomas is brushing past him and the bathroom door is shutting quietly behind him.

He stares after Thomas for what seems like a solid five minutes before he can move. He shakes his head and begins pulling his clothes on. His hair almost immediately soaks through the back of his (Lafayette’s) grey tee shirt when he puts it on, so he steals a hair tie off of Thomas’s dresser and uses it to pull his hair up into a sloppy bun at the back of his head.

He’s sitting on the bed, putting his socks on when the bathroom door opens and Thomas steps back into the room. His hair is tamer than when he entered the bathroom, and he’s dressed in a pair of light wash jeans and a light purple tee shirt.

“Good morning,” Thomas says as he walks towards his desk. He sits down in the swivel chair and turns to face Alexander. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks as if the awkward confrontation ten minutes ago hadn’t happened. Alexander tries to hide his surprise as he comprehends Thomas’s question.

He tries not to think about waking up to find an arm slung protectively across his hip when he answers, “Yeah.” He shrugs, “I slept fine.” Which, besides his onslaught of memories this morning, was surprisingly true.

Thomas crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press on, “Well it’s almost eleven so mom probably has brunch or something made if you’re hungry.”

“Brunch sounds good.” Alexander affirms with a nod. Thomas looks at him again before shaking his head and opening his bedroom door. Alexander let's Thomas lead the way out of his bedroom and then follows him without question. He’s only been here a day and he’s already thinking about asking Mary to draw him a map to help him navigate these myriad of hallways.

When they get to the bottom of the stairs, Thomas stops and holds out his hand. Alex looks at it for a second, before he remembers the reason that he’s here. He’s here to be Thomas’s perfect boyfriend, and perfect boyfriends hold hands. He reaches out and takes Thomas’s hand in his own, letting their hands mold together and then intertwining their fingers. The Virginian’s hand is warm against his own, almost feverish, and Alexander can only tighten his grip.

Thomas pulls him along behind him and within a few paces, they reach what looks like a sitting room. Mary and John sit wrapped around each other in the love seat. They’re both reading a book. Peter is next to them, sitting on the couch and staring at his phone. The windows are open, and the wind blows gently through the house. It’s warm without being too hot.

“Good morning.” Thomas greets the three of them as he pulls Alexander closer beside him. Alexander let's Thomas wrap his arm around his waist, and ends up practically molded to the Virginian’s side. Thomas’s body is firm beside him and he tries to focus on the birds chirping outside.

“Hey, you’re finally up!” Mary claps, “We were going to have a picnic but Ma said we had to wait for you two lovebirds to get up.” Mary chirps, as she untangles herself from John and puts her book down on the coffee table. Alexander is pleased when he sees that the book she’s reading is Moby Dick.

“You must have really worn each other out last night, huh?” Mary teases them, and Alexander watches as John looks up from his book to sigh bemusedly at his girlfriend.

  
“Can we not mortify Alexander on his second day here?” Elizabeth interrupts from her place by the door frame. Her hands are crossed over her chest and her lips pursed. Mary flashes her a bright smile that portrays nothing but innocence, and Elizabeth’s frown dispels just a fraction.

“Let’s go, you kids.” Mary called over her shoulder as she turns to help pull her boyfriend up from the love seat, “I’m ready for a picnic.”

Peter unfolds a large blue and green patterned quilt and spreads it out underneath the shade of two large Tulip Poplars that stand adjacent to the house. Jane sits the impressive big picnic basket down on the blanket and then sits down gracefully beside it. Thomas flops down unceremoniously and pulls Alexander with him.

Mary and John tangle themselves together, while Elizabeth sits down with a book of poems and Peter uses his football as a pillow.

Alexander freezes because he’s not sure how boyfriend’s would act in this situation. If he was here with Eliza, he’d be pressed up against her side. He’d be reluctant to leave an inch of space between them. He’s not with Eliza though. He’s here with Thomas. His roommate, the guy he hates, the guy he’s fake dating for money. Should they act like Mary and John? It’s obvious to everyone how in love they are. Should they plaster themselves together in the least subtle way possible?

Thomas shifts and Alexander’s head ends up resting against his thigh like a pillow. He sighs and relaxes almost instantly. For once, he’s glad that Thomas made the executive decision so that he wouldn’t have to. Alexander tries to lose himself in his surroundings, and it's not as hard as he expected.

He’s always been bad about forgetting to relax. He never takes breaks, never slows down. It’s just who he is. It’s different in the Virginia air though. Gone from his head are worries about due dates and pamphlets he needs to publish. He’s not worrying about writing the next take down article about some asshole at Columbia. For once, he’s just being here in the moment.

The sun finds its way through the tree leaves and gently warms his skin. It’s delightfully warm and the breeze is a nice reprieve from the bright sun. Birds chirp excitedly around them. For once, Alexander’s body and mind relax. Away from the honking horns and busting energy, Alexander finds himself at peace. He hums quietly under his breath. If only Eliza could see him now.

  
Wait a minute.

  
He’s reminded of this morning’s slideshow of memories and his body tenses unintentionally. He struggles in his efforts to stop thinking about her. His mind is stuck in repeat; fast playing unwanted memories about her perfume, her smile, her gentle caress.

He slowly opens his eyes and finds Thomas looking down at him. He looks up at Thomas’s dark eyes and he thinks that there might be something like concern in them and feels sick at the thought. Alexander doesn’t want Thomas’s concern. He doesn’t want this to change their dynamic. They hate each other. They’ve hated each other since before they became roommates and a stupid spring break in Virginia isn’t going to change that. It can’t change that.

Thomas looks like he’s going to say something but, thankfully, Jane interrupts before he can.

“Here you kids go,” Jane sings as she pulls sandwiches, chips, and fruit from the picnic basket.

She passes around food for everyone and Alexander uses it as an excuse to sit up and put some much needed distance between himself and Thomas. They all eat quietly, enjoying the nature that surrounds them. Peter and Thomas are the first ones to finish, and Peter somehow convinces Thomas to play football with him.

Thomas and Peter take his football and run out farther into the trees. They throw the ball back and forth as Alexander watches on silently. It’s after Thomas makes a particularly good catch, that Mary untangles herself from John and comes to sits down beside Alexander.

She takes a long sip from her water bottle and then screws that cap back on. “I was talking with John and you know what? I think we should go clubbing before you and Thomas go back to New York.” Mary suggests with a grin, “Peter and Bets aren’t old enough yet, but it would be fun for me and Peter to go with you two.”

Alexander pulls his gaze from Thomas and looks back at his fake boyfriend’s sister, “Yeah, that sounds fun.” He agrees, “I’m sure I can convince Thomas to come.”

He’s not lying when he says it sounds like fun. He’s only known Mary for two days, but he’s already grown quite fond of her. He doesn’t like the lump that forms in his throat when he reminds himself that he’ll never see her again after this spring break.

He lays back down and lets the sun hit his face. Once again, his eyes are drawn to where Thomas is. The man is hunched over at the waist from laughing, and he stands underneath a row of European larches. Alexander sighs and breaths in the sweet Virginia air.

Thomas’s laughter rings in his ears and Alexander realizes that he’s never heard a more beautiful sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me on [tumblr](https://willieverbesatisfied.tumblr.com/)


	5. The Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander's confused and there's a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much earlier than I expected, not that I'm complaining, it's mostly thanks to your comments which motivate me to write.

The next morning Alexander is, once again, awake before Thomas. He spends a few minutes laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Thomas’s sheets are warm against his body and he can’t help but spend a few minutes enjoying the quiet. He’s never been one who liked the quiet. Alexander was used to the noise of the city and the eerie silence makes him feel as though something bad is about to happen. Alexander’s surprised that it’s taken him less than three days to embrace the silence that is Virginia. Now that he’s actually embracing it, he realizes that it actually helps him think. 

Alexander closes his eyes and lets his mind run wander. 

He had gone into this compromise expecting the worse. He had expected three weeks of torture spent with an obnoxious family. It was only his third day here and he had already lost track of the number of times he been surprised. His first impression of the Jeffersons was the complete opposite of what he had been expecting. He had expected the family to act like the Jefferson he had spent the last semester rooming with. Alexander had expected condescending attitudes and judgement filled glances. Now that he’s thinking about it, it seems as though he was expecting a bunch of Henry Laurens’. To be fair John’s dad was the only Southern father that Alexander had meet, and after that encounter it’s safe to say that Alexander’s expectations for Southerners were set at an all time low. 

He can’t really describe Jefferson’s family, probably because they’re like no family he’s ever met. Jane is so different than what he expected. She isn’t uptight, isn’t snarky, isn't obsessed with preserving their image. She is relaxed, accepting, and easy to get along with. 

He was glad that Thomas had a parent that was accepting of his sexuality. Although, now that he’s thinking about it, Alexander isn’t sure what Thomas’s sexuality is. They’ve been dorming together for while and he’s never felt the need to ask, mostly because until now he hasn’t cared. Not that he cares now either, but he can admit that he’s a little curious. Thomas obviously dates men, or else Alexander wouldn’t be here, but he also remembers accidentally overhearing a conversation about a women that used to be in his life. 

Alexander scrubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up. The sun shines brightly through the window and he takes a moment just to let the sun soak into his skin.The blanket pools around his waist and he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at Thomas, who is still fast asleep next to him. He’s laying on his side facing Alexander, one hand tucked underneath his pillow and the other one resting across his chest. With each exhale a few stray curls blow gently to the side of his face before falling back. 

He rolls his eyes and climbs out from beneath the blankets. Alexander pulls the blankets back up on the bed with a sigh. He really needs to stop staring at Thomas when he’s asleep. God, he can only imagine what John would have to say about it if he found out. He kicks his clothes off and pulls on a clean pair of sweatpants and Laurens’ sweatshirt. Quietly, Alexander walks into the bathroom and brushes his teeth. He stares at himself in the mirror as he scrubs his teeth, and he thinks that he looks a little more human today. The mauve circles beneath his eyes are as present as usual, but they somehow balance out. He’s less pale and looks less like he died two hundred and thirteen years and more like he was a twenty one year old who needs to learn when to go to sleep. 

He unties his hair and lets it fall around his shoulders in dark, shiny waves. He reminds himself that he really needs to get it trimmed. He can see several split ends and it’s just a touch too long for his taste. Alexander spits the toothpaste into the sink and washes it down the drain with water. He puts his toothbrush in the holder and pauses. He looks at his green toothbrush sitting next to Thomas’s purple one. He’s not sure why something as stupid as a toothbrush made him pause. Alexander washes his mouth out and then pats his face dry. He walks back into Thomas’s room and decides not to have a repeat of yesterday’s awkward moment. Instead of waiting for his “boyfriend” to get up, which could take anywhere from five minutes or five hours, Alexander risks it and decides to try and navigate the labyrinth of hallways by himself. 

He steps out into the hallway and starts trying to find his way to the kitchen. Alexander takes the left hallway and eventually reaches the staircase. His foot hits the top stair and he’s about to start going down them when a picture on the wall catches his attention. 

The picture is Thomas and James Madison, both dressed pristinely in suits and pressed close together. Alexander’s eyes are immediately drawn to Thomas. He’s smiling brightly at the camera, head tilted, one arm holding a champagne flute and the other one wrapped around James’s shoulders. James is also holding a champagne flute, his flute halfway to his mouth and a shy smirk on his face, but he’s not looking at the camera. He’s looking at Thomas. Alexander sees so much adoration in James’ eyes that he has to look away from the picture. He chances another glance back at the photo and grits his teeth. 

He doesn’t know why the photo of Thomas and James is making him so annoyed. They’re friends, he knows that, and what does it matter if they were more than friends? Alexander doesn’t care. Thomas could fuck the entire state of Virginia and Alexander couldn’t care less. He looks at the picture again and swallows around the growing lump in his throat. His stomach feels tight and he can’t seem to drag his eyes away from that fucking photograph. 

He really can’t figure out why the picture is bothering him so much. 

Alexander thinks that he must be a masochist or something because as much as he wants to walk away, his legs just won't move. 

His eyes seem to stay glued to the smile that is spread across Thomas’s face. It’s bright, clear, and he looks so indescribably happy. Finally, someone downstairs laughs and it’s enough to shake him out of his thoughts. Alexander rubs his fingers over his temples and goes down the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. 

He obviously didn’t get enough sleep last night, because his head is running twenty miles a minute and he has little control of his thoughts. They’re like a disorganized pile of wet, tangled,  and unwanted thoughts that he can’t seem to straighten out. Alexander tucks them neatly into the corner of his brain and promises himself that he’ll attempt to sort through them when he’s not so hungry and when he thinks he might actually be able to draw some conclusions from them. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks into the kitchen. 

He sees John first and can’t help but smile at his attire. He’s wearing a ridiculous apron that says “Kiss The Cook” and holding a spatula like a wand. Mary sits at the counter with Elizabeth and giggles adorably over her boyfriend. Elizabeth sips her orange juice and Alexander can see her lips twitch up when Mary starts making dad jokes at the expense of John’s pride. He doesn’t seem to mind though, instead he just continues flipping pancakes like a pro and kisses her sweetly on her flushed cheeks.

“Good morning, guys.” Alexander says conversationally, but mostly to alert them of his presence. They all three turn to face him and Alexander watches as Mary and Elizabeth smile automatic at him. John nods with a smile and greets him, “Mornin’.” and flips another pancake before putting it on a plate and sitting it down on the counter next to Elizabeth. Alexander takes that as his cue and hops up on the stool next to her. 

He takes a bite of the pancake and gratefully accepts a mug of steaming coffee from Mary. He listens to their conversation and silently nods along as he eats, occasionally interjecting his own ideas. John adds a second pancake to his plate and sends him a wink. 

Peter stumbles down the stairs a few minutes after Alexander finishes his first pancake. He expects Peter to have breakfast, but instead he sits down at the table and drops his head onto the surface in front of him. Instead of giving him breakfast, Elizabeth fills a rather large mug with black coffee and passes it to him. He takes a huge gulp and then lets his head fall back onto the table. Alexander can barely suppress his snort when he realizes how much Peter and John Laurens have in common. 

Jane enters from the living room and rolls her eyes when she sees Peter. She presses a kiss to each one of her children’s cheeks and then presses one on John’s cheek, and then one on Alexander’s. He smiles at her when she sits down across from Peter and takes a sip from her glass of orange juice. 

“Alexander,” She addresses him and he looks up from his plate to stare into her kind eyes. “We were all planning on going out tonight. We have to go shopping for Elizabeth and then I was thinking we would grab dinner and see a movie. You and Thomas are more than welcome to come with us, but I figured that you two might want to spend some time alone without worrying about us all being here.” 

He flushes at what he assumes is a vague innuendo and sends her a shy smile, “A night in sounds good.” He murmurs and tries to ignore the way his stomach crawls when he thinks about being at the house alone with Thomas. He sees Jane open her mouth as if she’s about to say something else when they’re interrupted by loud footsteps coming down the stairs. Thomas walks into the kitchen a few seconds later with a frown on his face. He scans the room and then his eyes finally settle on Alexander. Thomas’s frown smooths a fraction and he grabs a mug of coffee before joining Peter and Jane at the kitchen table. 

Thomas grabs Alexander’s hand and brings it up to his lips. He presses a slow kiss on the back of his hand and looks up at Alexander through his thick eyelashes. Mary lets out a low whistle and Thomas lets Alexander’s hand fall back down and looks away. 

“Good morning, Alex.” Thomas greets him in a low gravely voice. He tries not to focus on the fact that Thomas had called him Alex instead of Alexander. “Thomas.” He replies and takes another sip from his mug. Jane catches him up on their plans for the evening and a part of Alexander wishes that Thomas would suggest that they go out with them tonight. Thomas, of course, doesn’t say that though. He just nods as he drinks his coffee and occasionally smiles at his siblings. When Jane’s done explaining, Thomas tells them that a night in would be fine. 

They finish breakfast together and then they move to the living room. Thomas sits next to Alexander and he’s sure that he must look so awkward, pushed up against the guy he can barely stand. Awhile later Jane, Mary, John, Peter, and Elizabeth murmur their goodbyes and tell them that they plan to return later that night. 

The second the door closes behind them, Alexander feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest. Thomas runs his hands through his hair before turning to face Alexander, “Have you finished your project for Washington’s class yet?”

Alexander raises an eyebrow, “No. I was planning on finishing it over break, but you know.” He gestures vaguely to their surroundings. To be honest, finishing his work for Washington’s class is one of the last things on his to do list at the moment. Thomas looks at him for a second before muttering, “Follow me.” and then turning and walking off. Alexander rolls his eyes but follows him, and another labyrinth of hallways later they end up in front of a set of double doors. Thomas pushes them open and steps inside a mysterious room. Alexander files in after him and his breath is stolen from his lungs the second he realizes where Thomas has taken him. 

In front of him is the most beautiful library he’s ever seen. The walls are tall and lined with shelves that must be covered in several hundreds of books. One side of the room is almost completely glass, and it lets in a sufficient amount of natural light. Alexander sees a fireplace in the corner and he can almost imagine curling up in here with the fire roaring and reading Tolstoy. There’s a large desk in the center of the room and a few chairs and a couch spaced evening about. It’s a massive room, vast in both the space and the amount of books it holds. Alexander can see that it’s filled to the brink with so many books that he can't possibly comprehend how someone could read them all in one lifetime. 

“Oh my God.” He breathes, because his brain can’t seem to come up with anything better than that.

“You’re more than welcome to work on your homework in here.” Thomas smiles and Alexander can see a teasing grin on his face. He wants to be annoyed that Thomas is teasing him, but he’s too utterly flabbergasted and impressed to be anything more than excited. He can’t wait to crack open these spines and sift through page after page. 

He walks around the room and lets his fingers run over the spines of the books. He sees some titles that he’s familiar with and some that he’s never heard of before. “You have a lot of books.” Alexander finds himself saying without thought. He pulls a worn copy of The Taming of the Shrew from the shelf and flips through it. 

The pages are warm and the book looks worn at the edges but still perfect. He inhales the calming scent of old books and feels his smile grow. 

“A inherited some of them from my father, but the majority are ones that my siblings and I have collected.”

“There’s a special place in my heart for books, especially older ones.” Alexander confesses, although he doesn’t know what made him say it, “I could spend my entire life reading.” He thumbs through the pages slowly. 

Thomas snorts and Alexander’s head snaps up sharply. He expects some annoying comment about his work ethic, but surprisingly Thomas shakes his head and says, “Trust me, I know. I live with you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve almost broken my neck trying to get into my bed in the dark because I trip over your piles of books.” He sees the small smile on Thomas’s face and relaxes just a fraction, “You have at least fifteen different piles in our dorm, Alex.”

Alexander laughs and it’s a second later that he catches himself and frowns. Thomas seems to catch himself too because his smile disappears and he smooths his clothes with his hands, as if he's giving them something to do besides fidget. “James is coming over.” Thomas states as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “You can stay in here a work if you want.”

The mention of Madison makes something hot grow in his chest but he manages a small smile and nods, “Yeah, I have a lot of work to do. I should probably try to focus on getting it done.”

Thomas’s gaze stays on him for what might be considered a fraction of a second too long before he shakes his head and leaves the library. Alexander stares after him and only looks away a minute after the heavy oak doors shut behind him. 

Alexander turns back to the shelves of books surrounding him and grabs a book of John Locke's’ works. He grabs a piece of paper and a pen from the desk and starts sketching out his main idea. 

It’s several hours later when Alexander resurfaces from his deep in thought process. His stomach lets out a growl and he sees that it's almost five o’clock. He realizes with a sigh that he skipped lunch, once again, because of his homework. He had promised Lafayette that he would try to get better about accidentally skipping meals. Alexander looks down at the fourteen pages of scribbles in front of him. He came up with a pretty decent idea for the project and decided to write his paper about how John Locke influenced early American politics. 

He stands up and lets the bones in his back crack before rolling his head to the side and letting his neck pop. He twists his hair up into a bun at the top of his head and gathers his loose papers and sticks them in an empty folder on the desk. Alexander steps out of the library and begins searching for the kitchen. 

“God, fuck this freaking house and it’s confusing ass hallways.” He mutters lamely under his breath, the words directed towards nobody but himself. 

He hears talking and quietly follows the sound of voices. He finally reaches the doorway of the kitchen and instead of stepping inside, he stands there for a moment. Alexander can hear Thomas and James’s voices clearly and he quietly eavesdrops on their conversation. 

“You’re dating Alexander Hamilton?” James scoffs incredulously, “You’re joking. There’s no way. You were just complaining about how much you hate him the other night in economics.”

Alexander bristles a little at that and he barely manages to suppress an eye roll. He continues to quietly listen as Thomas replies, “I was in denial, James. He’s great.”

Seriously, that was the best Thomas could do? Really  _ fucking  _ convincing. 

When James speaks again, Alexander can hear the disbelief evident in his voice, “You’re lying. I don’t know why, but I know you Thomas. You’re not dating that asshole.”

He has to bite his tongue to keep himself from making his entrance right then and firing off some rampant insults. He can tell that James isn’t believing their story and the nerves in Alexander’s stomach light fire. He knows that James has the potential to severely fuck this up for the both of them. 

It’s a spur of the second decision when Alexander decides to make himself known in the least subtle way possible. He enters the kitchen and sees Thomas standing with his arms leaning again the stove, while James sits on a stool at the counter. He takes a deep breath and walks closer to Thomas. God, he really hopes that Thomas is smart enough to pick up on what he’s doing and why. He might be a dump republican but Alexander hopes that he isn’t dumb enough to think James is buying their story. 

“Hey babe.” He acknowledges Thomas with what he hopes is a convincing sleepy smile. He walks up to Thomas and wraps his arms around the other man’s waist. Alexander feels Thomas tense in his arms but a second later it’s gone. Alexander lets go and when Thomas turns to face him, he stands up on the balls of his feet and slowly brings their mouths together. 

He moves slowly enough that Thomas could move away if he wanted to, but a second later their lips are touching and Alexander is still. 

For a moment they stand there unmoving, their lips pressed together but a solid foot between their bodies. It must finally click for Thomas, because he brings his arms to wrap around Alexander’s waist and pushes back into the kiss. Alexander uses every emotion in his body to make the kiss seem real. He wants to imagine that it’s Eliza, but Thomas feels too different under his hands that his imagination refuses to cooperate. He finally accepts the fact that he’s kissing Thomas Fucking Jefferson, and allows himself to push deeper into the kiss.

He tangles his fingers in the bottom of Thomas’s curls and let’s the Virginian push him back into the counter tops. Their lips move in tandem, sliding against each other slowly and then feverishly and then slowly again. Alexander grips Thomas’s waist with his hands, and lets his fingertips dig into his sides as Thomas all but attacks his mouth. 

He thought that kissing Thomas would be weird, but instead it’s just different. His lips are soft and pliant, moving slowly against his own as their bodies press closer. 

Thomas pulls away first, a string of saliva running between their separated mouths and Alexander fights the urge to throw up. He literally just had his tongue in Thomas Jefferson’s mouth. He looks up at Thomas’s dark eyes and gives him a sweet smile. Their foreheads are pressed together and Alexander can’t find it in himself to move. 

“Hey.” Thomas rasps, finally finding his voice. 

“Hey yourself.”

“Uhm.” James says awkwardly and Alexander turns to face him. For a fraction of a second, he had forgotten that James was there. He wipes his sleeves across his face and manages what he hopes is a welcoming smile, when in reality he wants to choke Madison with his bare hands. 

He wishes he knew why he felt so annoyed with the man. 

“James, I didn’t even notice you.” Alexander pastes on an obnoxiously kind smile and stares at him.

“That was probably the grossest thing I’ve witnessed, but I suppose I owe you two a congratulations.” James says in that same old monotone voice of his that drives Alexander crazy, “You’re not my favourite person, Alexander, but if you make Thomas as happy as he says then I can put our fights behind us and I hope you can too.”

Alexander smiles at James and nods, “Of course, James.”

He turns to look back up at Thomas with a sigh. He’s relieved that James believes their lie, but at the same time he can’t get the thought of Thomas’s lips out of his head. 

“Why don’t I make us something to eat?” Thomas suggests and Alexander’s stomach gives a growl of agreement with the idea. 

He sits a stool away from James and quietly flicks through his phone. He watches Thomas and James interact out of the corner of his eyes. He sees every smile they send each other, and every time they laugh he feels as though his ears will start bleeding. 

He watches the way they interact so intimately with each other. Thomas takes too long to make dinner and eventually they move into the living room with bowls of macaroni and cheese. Alexander sits down in a chair by himself and bites his tongue when Thomas flops down next to James on the love seat. They spread a blanket across their knees and turn their attention towards the television. Alexander frowns as he takes another bite from his spoon. 

James looks at him, and Alexander sends a death glare back at him. He sees one of James’s eyebrows arch and then James looks from Alexander to Thomas and then back to Alexander. 

Alexander looks down at his bowl and wonders why he’s feeling so much anger and hostility towards the man who used to be one of his closest acquaintances. 

He looks at the two of them curled up on the couch together, and he can’t help but compare it to the picture that hangs on the wall above the staircase. His stomach feels twisty and his emotions spread across his skin in a hot red flush. 

Woah, wait right there. 

What the fuck is he doing? He draws his eyes away from the couch and attempts to focus blindly on whatever is playing on the television. He can’t quite place his emotions, but it feels a lot like jealousy, which is ridiculous. Alexander is fake dating Thomas. The key word there being _fake_. They aren’t a couple, Alexander doesn’t even like the Virginian. The only reason he is even here is because he needs that money. He can’t be jealous of James, because he can barely even stand Thomas. 

He takes a deep breath and relaxes in his own persuasive skills. Alexander focuses on the television and tries his best not to look back at the couch. 

It’s when James is leaving that he invites both Alexander and Thomas to a fancy party that his parents are hosting. It’s one of those “old money” things, and Alexander is about to decline when Thomas accepts for the both of them. 

He bites his tongue again and watches blank faced as Thomas wraps James in a goodbye hug before walking him out to his car. 

Alexander schools his face and smiles at James while wishing him safe travels back to his house.

He keeps his face carefully blank and it’s actually quite simple because he doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t care. 

Right?

Alexander sighs as he shuts the door, and decides to add James to the pile of unorganized thoughts that he’ll sort through later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always come say hello on my [tumblr](https://willieverbesatisfied.tumblr.com/)


	6. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and Thomas cuddle, while Thomas's family plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! I'm SO sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter out! I have loads of excuses (work, prom, school) but I'll skip to the important stuff. The next few weeks are really packed for me, I have exams and end of the school year shit that unfortunately comes before writing. I'll try my best to keep updates somewhat regular, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to write. However- once school lets out I'll have so much time on my hands that I can (maybe) stick to my posting schedule. 
> 
> As always, thanks for your comments and kudos. They keep me motivated.

Alexander opens his eyes and squints into the dark abyss that lays before him. The window curtains are drawn back, but the outside world offers him no more light than the room he’s in. Naturally, he knows it's too early for him to be awake- even taking into account his unusual sleeping patterns - probably around two o’clock in the morning. He takes a moment to relax in the comfort of the mattress beneath him and the warmth surrounding him. It’s a new kind of peaceful that he’s not used to. It takes him a minute to remember that he’s laying in Thomas’s bed (which was why he is so comfortable), and then a second later he realizes that the firm thing his head is resting on his Thomas’s chest, his incredibly toned and ripped chest that is. He freezes when he realizes that they were unconsciously cuddling. Thomas’s arms are wrapped around his waist and they are pressed so close that the space between them is almost indecipherable.

Alexander sits up and pushes Thomas’s arms off him gently. He stares into the darkness, trying to figure out what it was that woke him up in the first place. Alexander sees his phone light up and grabs it off the bedside table and looks at his new notifications. Three new snap chats and a new Instagram post notification from Lafayette (of course he has post notifications on for his friends). He opens the snap chats first, all three from John Laurens respectfully, and sits back on the bed as he looks at them. The first snap chat is a photo of what Alexander now refers to as The Hamilsquad. The picture is of Lafayette, Hercules, and John all making ridiculous faces at the camera and the caption reads, “We miss you, Hammie!”. The second one is a video of the three of them laughing and it’s almost too dark to see anything. A few seconds later the camera flips and Alexander can see Aaron Burr rolling his eyes and the caption says, “We found Burr!”. The third one was a photo of Burr with the dog filter and Alexander can’t help the laugh that escapes him at his friend’s antics. Alexander can see the pure annoyance that radiates through that one photo. He recognizes that look as the same look that Burr gives him every time Alexander leaves the library after a long night of studying. It’s his “I’m sick of your bullshit” face.

He exits out of snap chat and clicks opens Instagram. After scrolling through a few meaningless photographs of people he doesn’t know why he follows, Alexander goes to Lafayette’s profile and clicks on his latest picture. It’s a tasteful black and white selfie. Alexander can’t help but notice how beautiful his friend is. Lafayette is looking just to the right of the camera, his lips pursed ever so slightly, chin resting in his right palm, and the other arm holding the phone.The caption says, “Loving you is the most exquisite form of self destruction.” 

Alexander frowns but likes the photo anyways. He knows who the caption is about, hell, he’s pretty sure everyone at Columbia, besides Washington of course, knows who that caption is about. He knows that Washington’s a smart guy, he is teaching multiple advanced history classes after all, but the man has got to be pretty fucking dumb to not pick up on how Lafayette feels about him. Alexander feels helpless, and he feels like a shit person because of his helplessness. He wishes he could do something, but he knows that he can not do a thing to help his friend stop hurting. The only two people that can do that are Lafayette and Washington, and Alexander doesn’t think either are likely to anytime soon.

He locks his phone and tosses it down onto the bed. He rubs his hands over his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It’s actually only one in the morning, but Alexander still knows that he won't be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. His sleep schedule has been messed up since the hurricane in Saint Croix. The majority of the time, he can only catch a few hours of sleep until his body wakes up. Alexander can’t count the amount of times he’s falling asleep during his work and woken up hours later.

He decides that instead of laying in Thomas’s bed for the next seven hours, and doing nothing but creepily stare at his fake boyfriend, he’s going to sneak down to that beautiful library Thomas showed him earlier and either work on his article for Washington’s class or crack open the spine of one of those books. 

He climbs out of the bed and turns back around to pull the blankets up so that Thomas doesn’t get cold. He stills when Thomas rolls over and lays his face on the pillow Alexander had been using. The Virginian lets out a little sigh and a second later, when Alexander is sure he’s still asleep, he makes his way to the door. He steps outside the room, and pulls the door shut quietly behind him.

He follows the hall down the stairs, pointedly not looking at the photograph above the staircase, and tries to remember the path Thomas took earlier. After several twists and turns around the hallways, Alexander ends up outside the same doors as earlier. They’re cracked open now just a little, and Alexander can see a light orange glow coming from inside. He pushes open the door and steps in. He sees a fire roaring in the fireplace and the shadow of a person sitting on the love seat. Alexander walks inside and grabs the worn copy of John Locke’s works and his rough outline for his paper.

He drags the book and his folder of papers over to the couch and sets it down on the coffee table. Alexander sits down on the couch, and crosses his left leg over the right. He looks up and sees Elizabeth sitting across from him. She’s nose deep in a copy of Sylvia Plath’s _The Bell Jar_. He opens his laptop and pulls open a blank document. He glances up from the laptop and their eyes meet. She looks over the top of her book to smile shyly at him. She looks back down and turns the page without saying anything.

They sit in the quiet simplicity as she reads and he continues working on his project. After a few minutes of reworking his outline on the laptop, Alexander lets out a frustrated sigh. At first he had thought that this project would be easy. He had thought that it would be simple to trace Locke’s influence, that it would be straightforward and not complicated in the slightest. As it turns out, it’s a lot more complex than he had previously thought. There’s quite a bit of inferencing he has to make on his own and the lines connecting each political decision start to blur. He had expected a simple project, but now he’s noticing that things aren’t that simple.

He shuts his laptop and stares into the flames. They look like they are beginning to flicker out, and the orange glow is diminishing. “Can I be honest?” Elizabeth’s voice interrupts his thoughts and Alexander looks over at her surprised. They have been sitting in solitude for so long that he had almost forgotten she was here. His eyes flicker away before looking back at her and nodding. She closes the book and looks away from Alexander’s eyes, “Thomas is different now.” She pauses, “Ever since you started dating that is.” She continues looking at him for a minute before opening her book and resuming reading. He sits in the quiet as she turns another page.

Alexander doesn’t know what she means by different. He doesn’t know if it’s a good different or a bad different. He doesn’t think she is going to explain what she meant either, and he can barely resist the urge to ask her. Honestly, he doesn’t know if he wants to know what she meant. If it was a bad different, he’d feel guilty. But if it was a good different, he wouldn’t know what to think about making a good change in Thomas.

The silence envelopes them again and Alexander flips through a book that is sitting on the table in front of him.

Awhile later, Elizabeth closes her copy of The Bell Jar again and stands up. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Alexander.”

“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

She pauses to stare at him for a second before she gives him another smile and sets her book down on the table, before walking out of the library. Alexander hears the door shut behind her and he remains motionless.

The rational part of Alexander knows that he needs to be getting back to sleep, but at the same time he also needs a few minutes to get his thoughts in order. They’re a mess of complications right now and this might be a good time to shuffle through that particular pile of thoughts he’s been neglecting ever since he arrived in Virginia.

The first thing on the very top of that pile: Thomas and James.

God, why does he feel so fucking jealous when it comes to James Madison? Why does he want to scream when Thomas talks about James and why does he want to punch something when Thomas smiles at him? He doesn’t get jealous, he never has and he doesn’t see why that would change now. He feels crazy like this. He’s jealous over a guy he doesn’t even like! He’s jealous over his fake boyfriend. 

Wait a minute. Maybe that’s why he’s jealous. Maybe it’s not because he’s sporting some secret crush, but rather his brain is confusing fake relationship feelings as real feelings. Something in him relaxes when he comes to this conclusion. It makes perfect sense as he thinks about it. Alexander breathes a sigh of relief, he doesn't have a stupid crush on a guy he can barley stand. He's just confused. 

He sits back on the couch and watches as the flames die in the fireplace. 

Eventually, his eyes get so tired that he can barely keep them open enough to look at the fire, and he decides that sleep is his best option. Not to mention, he’s starting to miss the warmth of Thomas’s bed. He stands up from the couch and slowly walks back to Thomas’s bedroom. He opens the door and quietly steps inside. He pulls back the blankets and slides inside them. His cold feet brush against Thomas’s warm legs and Alexander shivers. Thomas lets out a groan and cracks open his eyes, “Wha-”

“Go back to sleep, Thomas.” Alexander whispers softly to his fake boyfriend. 

Thomas turns on his side to face Alexander and rolls closer to him. Thomas presses his body up against Alex’s, and Alexander can’t help but relax. He cuddles closer, allowing himself this small amount of comfort, for this small amount of time. 

“Mm’kay,” Thomas says sleepily, his Virginian accent coating his words as he tucks his head next to Alexander’s. He feels his heart stutter just a bit at the deep tone that has infiltrated his fake boyfriend’s voice. He refuses to think about it though, and instead adds it to his pile of things he’ll think about when he’s not tired, and when he’s not so damn comfortable.

- 

Unfortunately, the second time Alexander wakes up, it’s not nearly as pleasant as the first. He receives a harsh push to the shoulder and a second later he’s laying on his stomach, face down on the hardwood floor. He rubs his elbow, which coincidentally made impact with Thomas’s bedside table, and sits up. “What the fuck?” He asks, half incredulously because of his quick awakening. He’s trying to figure out why and how he’s eating dirt of off Thomas’s floor at such an early hour. 

“Sorry,” Thomas says a little sheepishly from his place by the foot of the bed, “I had intended on it being a light nudge.”

Alexander allows himself a moment to observe Thomas. He notices how defined his hair is, his choice of casual clothes - at least as casual as he gets -, and the pair of black framed glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose.

“Who are you? Hercules?” Alexander groans as Thomas offers him a hand and helps him stand up.

Thomas lets out a laugh and Alexander’s feet slip a little on the hardwood and he goes straight into Thomas’s well crafted chest. He freezes when he comes into contact with the toned muscles. Alexander steps away quickly, drawing his hand out of Thomas's and then brushing his hair back with his fingers and looking in the opposite direction.

“I actually woke you up for a reason.” Thomas starts as he rubs the back of his neck, “Ma said she wanted to talk to us.” Alexander watches Thomas shuffle a little on his feet before running his fingers through his hair.

“Sure, just me a minute to get ready.” Alexander says around a yawn. He turns on his heels and hurries through his version of a morning routine (one that would make Lafayette cringe). He splashes some water on his face as he brushes his teeth, before changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and ruffles through his bag for a sweatshirt. His search turns up empty - he really needs to do laundry - and on a whim, he takes a peek through Thomas’s drawers. He knows it's an invasion of privacy, but a long time ago Peggy had taught him to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. He finds a dark purple sweatshirt that’s soft to the touch and makes him smile. He slips it over his head and lets out a little laugh when he notices that it almost reaches his knees.

He steps out into the hallway and looks up when he hears Thomas talking to someone. He sees Thomas standing, holding his phone up to his ear. “Yeah, uh huh.” Thomas says absentmindedly. Thomas murmurs something else that is inaudible before he looks over and sees Alexander before looking away. A second later Thomas looks back so fast that Alexander is surprised he didn’t get whiplash. His eyes go wide as they wander down Alexander’s chest.

Alexander’s cheeks flush at the intense look in Thomas’s eyes. “Yeah James, I’ve got to go.” Thomas says slowly, his eyes not straying from Alexander.

He hangs up and turns back to Alexander. After a second Thomas speaks, “You look adorable.”

“I don’t look adorable.” Alexander replies with a bit of an attitude. He’s not _adorable_ , okay? He’s hot.

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” Thomas teases him with a joking smile before slinging his arm around Alexander’s shoulder and escorting him down the stairs.

They enter the kitchen together and Thomas reaches over to link their hands together. All the siblings are sitting around the kitchen table, and Jane is sitting at the bar with a mimosa in hand.

“Boys!” She greets when they enter the kitchen. “Come and sit! We have a surprise for you.”

They both take a seat between Thomas’s siblings and Jane brings over a tray of mimosas for the table. Thomas grabs Alexander’s hand and drags it over towards him, letting their conjoined hands rest on his thigh. Alexander uses his free hand to grab a cold mimosa from the tray and taking a long sip. The orange juice and champagne is soothing on his tired throat, and it helps wake him up a little more than Thomas’s delightful morning shove.

“Ma, what’s the surprise?” Thomas asks, pure and unadulterated curiosity lacing his voice.

“Well ya’ll know how your anniversary is coming up?” Jane comments, her excitement barely concealed.

Alexander is confused for a minute before he remembers that he’s fake dating Thomas and that they’re fake anniversary is coming up. He feels Thomas squeeze his hand and he nods politely at her.

“Well! We planned your anniversary date for you!” Mary interrupts before Jane can get the words out.

All at once Alexander feels absolutely horrified. Thomas’s family went through all the trouble to set up their anniversary date and they’re not even really dating. Oh God, what if they spent money on them for this fake date? He feels a mix between nausea and pain rush through his veins. Alexander feels Thomas tense up beside him and tries to squeeze his hand to offer him some comfort.

“Thank you Mary.” Jane chuckles, “Don’t you boys worry! We went ahead and planned everything. You just have to go, my darlings.”

“Thank you, ma.” Thomas says, his voice sounding completely normal despite how tense his body feels next to Alexander, “You didn’t have to go through the trouble of setting us up a date.”

“Yeah, Jane. Wow, thank you.” Alexander adds on after Thomas. He’s feeling so many things right now, but grateful isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.

It’s guilt.

They finish breakfast in a peaceful silence and after Alexander escapes to the library to work on his John Locke article. He picks a book off of the table and begins flipping through until he finds what he needs. Alexander begins reading about The Declaration of Independence, because that seems like the obvious place to start. He sets the first book down and picks up Thomas's copy of the Second Treatise of Government.

Mary enters a few minutes after he’s settled down. She lays down across from him on the sofa, and elegantly situates herself. She crosses her legs and her pink skirt brushes against the top of her knees. “Do you have anything to wear on your date?” She asks conversationally.

Alexander glances up from the Second Treatise to look at her. To be fair, he hadn’t intended on going on a date so he obviously had nothing to wear, not that she could know that, “No, not really.”

She twirls a long curl around her finger and hums quietly under her breath, “And have you gotten Thomas an anniversary gift?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat and looks back down at the book, “No.”

He glances up at Mary as her lips spread into a beautifully breathtaking smile that shows an uncanny resemblance to her brother's, “Well Alexander,” She breathes, “Looks like we’re going shopping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://willieverbesatisfied.tumblr.com/)


	7. The Shopping Spree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and Mary take a trip to the mall in search of the perfect gift for Thomas, and the perfect outfit too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm done with exams! I did really good on all of them too, so thank you to everyone who wished me luck <3\. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I know there isn't a lot of interaction between Thomas and Alexander but I'm trying to develop the plot and a friendship between Mary and Alexander. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. I love reading your comments. :)
> 
> (Flashbacks are in italics)

Alexander stands by the mirror looking at his reflection. He’s got ten minutes before he has to leave and he can’t decide if he should go with the blue sweater he pulled out of his suitcase or suck it up and wear one of Thomas’s shirts. The sweater is one of his favourites. He’s had it since freshman year - picked it up from the discount bin at some store Lafayette took him too - and unsurprisingly, it still falls too long on his lanky body. Thomas’s shirts are no better. The sleeves on the one he grabbed are past his elbows and the bottom falls halfway down his thighs. It’s more comfortable than his sweater, though, and Alexander likes the faded logo on the front. It’s a William and Mary high school basketball tee-shirt. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Alexander grabs Thomas’s tee shirt and slides it over his head. The door opens a second later and Mary sticks her head inside, “You ready to go?” She asks with a smile as she pushes a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” Alexander says with a grin that reflects Mary’s excitement. He follows her out the door and down the stairs.

“You don’t even know how excited I am, Alex.” She says to him when they enter the living room. He sees Thomas sitting on the couch with Peter watching basketball on the television. Thomas stands when they make eye contact and walks over to him. “Good luck, Alexander. You’ll need it if you go shopping with her.” Thomas whispers to him with a smile. Alexander can see Thomas’s eyes linger on the shirt that he’s wearing but doesn’t say anything. “Well at least she’ll take me shopping.” Alexander replies with a cheeky smile and ignores the warm feelings to seep into his stomach when Thomas smiles back at him. His heart is racing in his chest, and his skin tingles in every spot that Thomas is touching him. They keep eye contact for a few seconds without saying anything until Mary interrupts them from afar.

“Hurry up, lovebirds. Marc Jacobs is calling my name.” Mary whines impatiently from her place by the door.

Alexander looks back up in time to see Thomas rolls his eyes. A second later, Thomas leans down to kiss Alexander on the lips. Butterflies erupt in his chest the second their lips meet, but they die a second later when Alexander realizes that the kiss is solely for their audience. The realization doesn’t stop him from reaching up to Thomas’s neck and pulling him closer. He pushes back into the kiss, and takes in the feeling of their lips gliding together. It’s a sweet kiss and Alexander feels heat rush into his cheeks.

Mary coughs again and Alexander pulls back a fraction of an inch to smile up at Thomas. Their heads are so close that he can see the golden specks in Thomas’s dark eyes. He feels like he could spend the rest of his life staring into them. “I’ll see you when we get back.” Alexander all but purrs before letting go of Thomas’s neck and walking to join Mary. “See you, darlin.” Thomas calls after him. Alex pauses to wave back at him and catches the kiss that Thomas blows at him. He goes to say something else but Mary grabs his arm and pulls him out the door.

“Honestly, you two are adorable but I really don’t need the make out session every time you are separated for more than twenty seconds.” Mary laughs as she climbs into the driver’s seat of her car. Alexander gets into the passenger seat and shuts the door behind him. “Hey, it’s more him than me.”

She laughs and brushes a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Are you like this after classes too?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” Alexander lies through his teeth. He’s getting tired of having to lie to everyone, but the days are ticking down and sooner or later they’ll be back to ignoring each other in New York and he won't have to think about the Jeffersons ever again. He hates the way his stomach flips at that thought. 

Mary flips through the stations on the radio and finally settles on one she likes. They listen to top 40’s on the way there, and Alexander finds himself missing Tchaikovsky.

The first shop they stop at is Marc Jacobs. As soon as Alexander enters the store, he knows that he won’t be buying anything from there. The store _smells_ out of his price range. He shoves his hands into his pockets and watches as Mary starts grabbing things off the rack and piling them into her hands.

“Alex, this would look amazing on you!” She says, turning to show him the dark green shirt in her hands. He grabs at the material and holds it in his hands. It’s soft to the touch and the material shimmers under the bright store lights. Alexander can’t deny that it’s exquisite. He grabs the tag and cringes when he sees that the price is over 300$.

He puts it back on the shelf and turns to Mary’s expectant face, “I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s what I’m looking for.”

She shrugs and turns back to her continuously growing pile of clothes.

After Marc Jacobs (and a heavy price tag that Alexander gasped at) Mary suggests they head over to her favourite bouquet. The second they enter this store, Alexander is so much more at ease. The clothes are just as beautiful, but the store is more his pace. It’s small, almost a hole in the wall, and after a quick glance at a price tag, it’s much closer to his price range as well.

“Grab a few things and let's try them on together.” Mary says as she grabs an assortment of clothes off the rack next to her. Alexander lets out a laugh as he makes his way to the other side of the store. He grabs a green shirt, a purple one, and a few other articles of clothing before making his way back to the changing rooms. He grabs the changing room across from Mary’s and pulls on the first shirt. It’s a horrific yellow shirt that Alexander wanted to throw up on when he first saw it.

“Okay! Come out!” Mary calls and they both step out at the same time. She looks stunning in a knee length white dress, covered with red roses. “Mary, that looks amazing on you!” Alexander says and she lets out a little giggle. She gives a little twirl and the dress spins with her. Mary stops to appraise his outfit, “I could say the same thing about you, Alex.” She snorts and he can hear the obvious sarcasm in her voice.

They try on their remaining outfits, and then Mary suggest that they pick out an outfit for the other.

Alexander ventures into the dress aisle. He picks through a few different option, and then notices a dress in the back. Something about it catches his attention immediately, and he feels his feet move without his permission. He grabs the dress off the clearance rack and holds it in his hands. He looks at the sky blue dress and runs his fingers over the fabric. It has buttons up the right side of the chest, and would probably fall mid thigh on Mary. He grabs it without thought and carries it back to the dressing room.

He hands it to her and she tells him that his clothes are in his dressing room. He enters and closes the door behind him. After making sure the outfit isn’t too embarrassing, he strips out of his clothes. Alexander pulls on the purple button up shirt and the literally skin tight black jeans. He feels ridiculous in this outfit, the pants and shirt way too tight for his liking.

“Okay, come out!” Mary calls and he steps out while holding his breath.

“That’s the one.” She tells him, “Thomas will die when he sees you in that. You know how much he loves purple. And your ass looks great.” Mary grins at him.

He doesn’t respond though, because he’s too busy looking at the dress he picked out for her. It looks beautiful on her, but he remembers a strikingly similar dress looking even more beautiful on someone else. Alexander now knows why he was so drawn to it in the first place, and why his heart feels like it's about to crack in half.

It looks just like Eliza’s favourite dress. Just like the dress she wore when they first met.

At once, his cursed memories fly back at him uncontrollably and he’s taken back to winter party that the Schuyler sisters had thrown freshman year.

_“Where are you taking me?” He asked Angelica as she linked their arms together and began walking him across the room. Her eyes twinkled like the lights above them as she smiled at him, “I’m about to change your life.”_

_He narrowed his eyes at her but felt himself smile back anyway, “Alright then, lead the way.” She pulled him across the room and he followed silently._

_It was a second later that he laid eyes on her. Her dark hair was pulled back and she keep looking nervously over at Angelica and him. He’d always prided himself on his words. His ability to manipulate language to get his point across. It was in that moment though, the moment he first laid eyes on her, that words failed him for the first time. Her eyes shone like candlelight in the darkness of the room as she glanced back over at them. A few steps later and they were only feet apart. The beautiful girl in the blue dressed turned towards them as they approached her, and Alexander saw her flash a stunning, albeit somewhat nervous smile. Angelica released his arm and the girl in front of them sat her cup down and curtseyed, “Elizabeth Schuyler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”_

_The last name Schuyler didn’t escape him, and as he tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear, Alexander turned towards Angelica. “Schuyler?” He asked quizzically._

_“Eliza’s my sister.” Angelica smiled at the two of them, her intelligent eyes bouncing between them before lingering on Eliza. Alexander watched her raise an eyebrow and then Eliza spoke._

_“Thank you for coming. I’m sure they are better things that you could be doing.” Eliza smiled as she spoke and he felt trapped in the upward twist of her lips._

_“If it takes me failing college for us to met, it will have been worth it.” He said, putting on his most charming smile._

_Alexander watched as Angelica gently laid a hand on her sister’s arm, “I’ll leave you to it.” She murmured, voice sounding strained over the loud music. He watched as Angelica turned to walk away and then his eyes found Eliza._

_“Shall we?” He asked, offering his arm. Eliza flushed, letting him link their arms together and pulling her off into the crowd._

“Alex?” Mary asks softly. “Alex.” She repeats a few times, her voice increasing in fervour with each second that passes.

“Sorry,” He shakes his head, as if that will rid him of the memory, “What’d you say?” He tries to focus on the women in front of him, but he can’t take his eyes off that damn dress.

“I asked if you were okay.” She murmurs as her lips spread into a thin line.

He nods unconvincingly, “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. What’s wrong?” She asks again, her frown deepening in the corners of her mouth. It looks like the look that Thomas used to wear when he knew Alexander was lying to him about whether or not he ate the last of the macaroni and cheese (he did).

“I’m sorry, you just reminded me of someone that I used to know.” Alexander offers the vaguest explanation he can think of with a shrug.

“Wanna grab a pretzel and talk about it?” She asks him nonchalantly. He knows discussing his ex girlfriend - that he’s still in love with - with the sister of the guy he’s currently fake dating for money probably isn’t the best idea, but he is the same person that posted an article online about how he cheated on his girlfriend, so it’s not like he has the best impulse control.

Which is how Alexander finds himself sitting in the food court, a tray of miniature salted pretzels in front of him, and a cherry Slurpee numbing his hand.

“Are you gonna spill the beans or what?” Mary says as she takes a long sip from her cup. She dips one of the pretzels into their cup of cheese, and lets a few grains of salt fall into her lap as she shoves it into her mouth.  

He takes a second to try and figure out just how much information he can share. And then takes another second to figure out what the best way to phrase it is.

“There was this girl,” Alexander starts and he sees her eyebrow arch. He takes a sip from his cup before continuing, “We dated for about two years and then we broke up. I don’t love her anymore, but I miss her friendship. Just back there, the dresses and trying on clothes reminded me of her.” He swallows around the lump in his throat and takes another sip from his cup.

“Well if you miss her friendship, why don’t you reach out to her? Rekindle a friendship.” Mary suggests and Alexander resists the urge to snort. If only it were that easy.

“I would but I doubt it’s likely she would talk to me, considering she hates me.”

“I sincerely doubt she hates you. Was it a bad breakup?”

Alexander covers his face with his hands, “Yes.” He peeks through his fingers to look at Mary, “I cheated on her.”

He sees Mary flinch and cross her arms over her chest, “Did you cheat on her with Thomas?”

He shakes his head frantically, “No,” He says, “I didn’t realize how I felt about him until after the breakup.” He presses his fingers against his temples, and sighs “I regret cheating on her everyday.”

“I see.” Mary starts, “I swear to God if you ever pull that shit on my brother, John and I can hide your body somewhere it’ll never be found.”

Alexander knows that this is the shovel talk, and he knows that he should feel intimidated. Instead, he feels a smile grow on his face, “You know Thomas threatened me with that same threat on the way here.” he says before frowning, “And I would never cheat on him.”

“Good.” Mary smiles at him, “And I guess its a trait that runs in the family.” She stands up suddenly, dumping their uneaten pretzels in the trash before returning to the table. She holds out her hand and links their fingers together as they walk out of the food court together.

Alexander had all but given up on finding something for his fake boyfriend for their fake anniversary after his trip down memory lane. It was when they were walking through the mall on the way back to the car, however, that he spotted it.

It was in a high end store and it was on display front in center in the glass display case.

“Oh my God, that’s perfect.” Alexander says to Mary as he peers through the glass. He laughs a little because it’s a ridiculously absurd gift to get Thomas, but he knows that it’s also kind of perfect. Thomas is just posh enough to pull off a cane. 

“What?” Mary asks, coming up behind him and looking into the window. “Right there.” Alexander presses his finger to the glass and points at it.

He sees Mary’s face screw up in confusion, “Is it… “ She swallows a little uncomfortably, “Is it a sex thing?”

Alexander laughs loudly, “No!” He grins, “No, it’s not a sex thing.”

He looks back into the display case at the long black gold tipped cane sitting on the shelf.  

“It’s perfect.”

He enters the store and explains to the cashier exactly what he wants, and a few minutes later they bring the cane to the register. He swipes his card without question. Sure, it cost him half of his last paycheck, but he knows the look on Thomas’s face when he opens it is going to be worth every penny. The cashier takes the cane and - upon Alexander’s request - wraps it in purple tissue paper before placing it into a gold box. She wraps a purple bow around it before handing it back with a smile.

When he exits the store, Alexander finds Mary waiting for him. She’s playing on her phone and slurping from the over sized coffee in her hand. “You ready?” Alexander asks, his arms tight around the gold box in his hands.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They get back to the house around six, and Mary tells him to leave the box in the car and that she’ll sneak it in later. The second he steps inside, Alexander is immediately greeted by his fake boyfriend.

“Glad to see you’re still alive.” Thomas greets him, “I hope she didn’t wear you out too much, darlin.” He adds on with a grin. On impulse, Alexander stands up on his tip toes to press a soft kiss to his fake boyfriend’s lips. He relaxes in the kiss and presses back into Thomas.

He pulls away and yawns, “I’m actually exhausted.” He tells him. It seems as though his emotional roller coaster has drained every ounce of energy out of his body.

“Well how about we just relax for the rest of the night?” Thomas whispers into his ear before laying a soft kiss on his neck. Alexander finds himself smiling as he agrees, “That sounds good.”

They end up curled up together on the couch, a dumb comedy playing on the television. Thomas is laying on the couch and Alexander is tucked into Thomas’s side. Elizabeth brings them both steaming mugs of tea and Alexander flashes her a sleepy grin and manages a “thank you” around his yawn. He takes a sip from the glass and sits it down on the coffee table. Thomas wraps his arm around the back of Alexander’s head as they watch the screen.  

Without thinking, Alexander finds himself staring at Thomas. He can’t fathom how much his opinion of the man has changed in the week that he’s been here.   
  
In place of the snarky self centered asshole, he sees a different person. Those character traits are still there, but he sees the softer edges now. His taunts are kinder now, and they lack the harsh quality they had before. His smile seems less viscous now, more carefree and languid in nature. And now Alexander’s first words in the morning aren’t, “Shut the fuck up Jefferson.” they’re, “Good morning, Thomas.” It’s a complicated turn of events and Alexander can’t help but wonder if Thomas has also noticed how different things are between them. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that he doesn’t want to go back to the petty arguments and cheap insults when they return to New York.

Alexander leans up to kiss Thomas again, and their lips slide together in what is definitely not a chaste kiss. He relinquishes in the few seconds that their lips are pressed together. Like every time they kiss, Alexander’s senses are overtaken by the Virginian beside him. He can taste the honey tea off his lips, can smell the sweet lavender laundry detergent that Thomas uses. He sees the fireworks shoot from behind his eyes, and hears the delicious sound that Thomas makes in the back of his throat when Alexander threads his fingers through his curls.

They break after a second and Alexander looks into Thomas’s dark eyes as he tries to catch his breath. Thomas shoots him a breathtaking smile and his breath catches again. When Alexander sits back down a minute later and tucks himself into Thomas’s side, his cheeks on fire and his lips tingling, he pretends that it’s all for their fake relationship. That it's all to make it seem more real. 

The only problem with that is, well, Alexander’s never been good at lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The Date


	8. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and Thomas celebrate their (fake) three month anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually updated and it didn't take me a month. 
> 
> Your comments mean the world to me, and I love getting feedback. So let me know what you think. :)

Alexander stares down at the paper in front of him. “Fuck.” He whispers without taking his eyes off the page. He’s about halfway through his first rough draft of “John Locke’s influence on American Politics” and he’s beginning to regret choosing this topic. John Locke is without a doubt a key player in American politics, but when it comes to narrowing down the exact influence Alexander finds himself at a loss.

If it were any other class, any other professor that assigned this paper: Alexander wouldn’t be stressing this much. He would have finished his first rough draft, finished his second, and then wrote the final draft. Then he’d do two edits of the final and that’d be it. He’d turn it in and trust his instincts. It’s only because it’s Washington’s class, and he has this irresistable urge to look good in Washington’s eyes, that he’s stressing every single detail.

Alexander stares at the document for a few more minutes, the words blending together obnoxiously as he struggles to come up with another sentence to add. His points are unclear, and there’s not enough evidence to back up several of the claims he makes. He huffs irritably, saving the document, and shutting his laptop hard. The resounding smash sounds wrong in the quiet of the library.

“Everything okay?” Elizabeth asks. He glances up from his shut computer to look at her. She is standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and leaning back against the door jam. She was so quiet that he didn’t hear her come in.

He flashes her a smile and sits back in his chair, “Yeah, yeah.” He mutters, “Just this stupid paper I have to write for History. It’s turning out to be a little more difficult than I thought.”

She walks into the room and sits down across from him. Like the rest of her siblings, Elizabeth can pull off the effortlessly beautiful look. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings, a grey crop top, and a pair of converse. He’s envious of this families ability to look amazing wearing anything, where as he looks like he hasn’t sleep in eight years if he wears a pair of sweatpants. She pulls her feet up into the chair and crosses them.

“What’s your paper about?” She inquires curiously. Alexander’s surprised that she’s even speaking to him, and he notices that this is the longest they’ve spoken in the entire time that he’s been here.

He looks down at the loose leaf sheets of paper surrounding him. They’re covered with notes about his paper, books he needs to pick up, and ideas he might write about.

“John Locke’s influence on American politics.”

Her eyes light up automatically, “Does Thomas know what you're writing about?”

“No.” He says slowly, Thomas knows the basic of the assignment, because he’s in History with Alexander, but he never mentioned what he was specifically writing about, “Why?”

“Thomas has a thing for John Locke. Says Locke gives him a brain boner.” She lets out a little snort and sits back in the chair, “Thomas could probably help you a lot with your paper.”

Alexander relaxes and looks back up at her, “I’ll have to ask him then.” He frowns, “Did you need something or...?”

“I was supposed to tell you that you need to get ready for your date, but it kind of slipped my mind.”

His date. Right, his date with Thomas to celebrate their three month anniversary. “Shit, what time are we leaving?”

She raises her eyebrow and glances at her watch, “Thirty minutes.”

“Shit.” He hisses the word and stands up. Alexander grabs his laptop and shoves the loose paper into it. “I’ve got to get ready.” He says, “Thanks Elizabeth.”

She offers him a small smile as he rushes from the room. He takes two lefts, follows a long halfway and then makes a sharp right before he comes to another door. Alexander knocks and shoves his hands into his pockets as he waits.

“Finally,” Mary murmurs as she opens the door. She grabs his arm and pulls him inside before shutting the door firmly behind him, “We’ve got less than half an hour to get you ready for your date.” She grins and lets out a little squeal.

She pushes him down into a chair by her bed and immediately gets to work. Mary sprays his hair with a serum before grabbing a brush and brushing it through his hair. She starts at the bottom and carefully brushes through the knots that develop from him continuously running his fingers through it. After a few minutes, the brush runs through without resistance and she lets out a low whistle.

“Your hair is gorgeous, Alexander.” She twirls it with her fingers, “I’m thinking a french braid. Does that sound okay to you?” She asks with a sigh as her fingers massage his scalp.

“Sounds fine to me.” He replies and she starts gathering hair at the top of his head. She’s quiet as she begins the braid.

“Is there any chance you’ll tell me what we're doing tonight?” He asks her. Jane refused to give Thomas or him any hints and he just wants a basic idea of what to expect. He hates going into a situation without any information.

“It’s nothing too big, Alex. Just a nice dinner.” She tugs a little too hard on a strand and Alexander winces.

Her fingers quickly finish the braid and she wraps a hair tie around the bottom of it. She then sprays it with a little hairspray so that his stray hairs stay back. Mary walks around to crouch in front of him, “How do you feel about a little mascara?”

Lafayette’s done his makeup enough that he knows what mascara is. He likes the way it darkens his already inky lashes, and adds a little length and fullness to them. The only thing holding him back from agreeing is the nagging question in his head. Does he want to do this for a date with Thomas? Alexander’s trying to keep things as normal as possible between the two of them, and he doesn’t want Thomas to think he went overboard for a stupid three month anniversary date for their fake relationship.

In the end, it’s Mary’s insistent pout that he can’t turn down that forces him to agree. She laughs bright and loud when he agrees and grabs a tube of mascara from her makeup drawer.

“Don’t blink.” Mary warns and then slowly begins spreading the black paste onto his eyelashes. He keeps his eyes open, focusing on the arch of her eyebrow as she applies the makeup. She does two coats and when she pulls away, Alexander looks at himself in the mirror. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look fucking good.

“We agreed on the green shirt right?” She calls from over her shoulder. Alexander turns around to see her rummaging through her closet until she pulls out the bag from the boutique. She pulls out the beautiful green shirt that he’d purchased and the pair of skintight black jeans, that she somehow convince him to buy.

“You can get dressed in here, if you want. Thomas is probably taking up his whole room as he tries to get ready. You know how he is.” Mary laughs and then ducks out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He does know how Thomas gets when he has to get ready for a special evening. Alexander will never forget the time he went back to his dorm after class to find all of Thomas’s closet strung across their dorm, and a bemoaning Thomas letting James Madison help him get ready for a night out clubbing.

He stares at the outfit on her bed. Alexander can admit the it’s a nice combo, and Mary obviously has good taste in clothing. As he stares at the items of clothing, his stomach heats up and he feels himself flushing. He supposes that it’s his nerves that are taunting him, but he has no reason to be nervous.

He strips out of his sweatpants and ratty tee shirt and trades them for the outfit on Mary’s bed. He struggles to get the jeans on, but after a shimmy - and a few lunges - he’s able to button them with ease. Then he puts his arms in the shirt and begins buttoning it up.

Alexander stares at himself in the mirror as he  brushes down the shirt. His stomach is on fire with nerves and he’s almost afraid to see Thomas.

“You good?” Mary calls from outside the door.

“Yeah, get in here and tell me how good I look.” He yells back through the door, and a second later it opens.

She claps her hands together with glee, “Alex. You look amazing. If I wasn’t dating John, I’d snatch you right up.” She smiles at him before fixing his collar. “Why don’t you grab the cane out of my closet, and you can go?" 

Alexander walks to her closet and digs around until he finds the gold box with the purple bow. As he picks it up, a small rectangular box falls off the shelf above him and onto the ground. He goes to pick it up, and then stops when he notices what it is. He grabs the velvet box and stares at it.

He opens the box and gasps. Alexander turns around quickly to look at Mary, “What is this?” He asks quietly.

She turns around to look at him, face contorted with confusion until her eyes narrow on the box in his hands. Her face flushes and she pats the spot next to her on the bed.

“You’re going to propose to John?” He asks with a smile.

She laughs a little but nods her head, cheeks pink, “I was planning on waiting until the end of break. Then I was going to ask him.” She smiles widely at Alexander, “I’m a little nervous.”

He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as he passes the box back to her, “Congratulations. You have to know that he’s going to say yes.”

“Yeah, I mean we’ve talked about it, but I’m still nervous to ask.”

There’s a knock on the door and he turns to her, “I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk about this when I get back, okay?”

Mary smiles at him and tells him to have fun, and then she’s shoving him out the door and into Thomas’s waiting arms.

Alexander steps back from his fake boyfriend’s grip to stare at said fake boyfriend. He looks like something out of Alexander’s dreams, dressed in black jeans with a purple shirt that’s tight over his muscular chest. Over his purple shirt, is his iconic, even darker, purple coat.

He looks like a fucking wet dream.

“Hey,” Alexander says slowly, forcing his eyes away from the tight fit of Thomas’s jeans. “Hey yourself.” Thomas says, although his eyes aren’t looking at Alexander’s; they’re slowly roaming up his legs and torso. After a moment, their eyes finally meet and Alexander can’t help the smile that crosses his face.

He remembers that Mary’s behind him, and can almost feel her curious eyes staring at them through the back of his head. Alexander pushes forward, bringing his mouth to slowly fit over Thomas’s. He’s starting to get used to the delicious taste of Thomas’s mouth and the way their breath intermingles so nicely. Alexander is hyper aware of Thomas’s long fingers roaming slowly up the sides of his hips, up his back, and then threading carefully through the fly away strands of hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Drunk off the feeling of Thomas’s mouth, Alexander pushes himself closer. He pushes until the small gap that was between them is nonexistent. He pushes until all he can feel, smell, and hear is Thomas’s body tightly wedged against him. His hands go up to wrap around Thomas’s neck and pull him even closer. The kiss is heavy, doused with an unmistakable longing on Alexander’s part that leaves him feeling way too exposed and vulnerable.

In an instant, the kiss mellows out. Their lips and hands move slower, the pace turning almost languid as their bodies begin to crave the oxygen that they’ve been deprived off. Alexander breaks away first. He’s panting and rests his forehead against Thomas’s chest. He listens to the erratic thump of Thomas’s heartbeat as he catches his breath. The second he feels like he can breath again, Alexander steps back and looks up to face the Virginian.

“Hey,” He breaths and watches in awe as Thomas smiles down at him. The man bends down to peck him quickly on the lips again, “You already said that.”

Alexander chuckles as Thomas wraps his arm around Alex’s waist and begins walking with him. “I suppose I did.” He murmurs back as they walk into the living room. Jane and Peter wave at them from the kitchen, and wish them a good time. Alexander calls back his thanks as Thomas all but shoves him out the door.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.” Thomas says as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his ridiculously nice car. Alexander can only nod as he tries to put on his seat belt and situate the present in his lap simultaneously. He sees Thomas glance over at the present from the corner of his vision and Alexander can’t help but smile.

“Is that for me?” Thomas asks quietly. He’s eyeing the box carefully as he taps his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel.

“Of course it’s for you.” Alexander replies, “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t get my fake boyfriend a gift for our fake three month anniversary?” He teases sarcastically.

Alexander is pleased as he watches Thomas’s lips twitch up into a slow smirk, “Well I guess it’s a good thing I got you something too.”

Alexander raises an eyebrow;  he obviously knew that he was most likely going to get a present from Thomas, but to hear that the man actually got him something warms Alex’s stomach. He hums in response, mouth too dry and brain too cramped to think of an appropriate reply that wouldn’t give away everything he’s thinking.

He’s got twenty different things on his mind, and now he can add Thomas to the top of that- not like he can pretend that the Virginian wasn’t up there to begin with.

Their relationship - friendship would probably be a better term to use - has evolved so rapidly in the past week that Alexander’s left struggling to keep up. He’s still helplessly in love with Eliza, but that alone is a whole complicated web of feelings that he can’t even begin to sort through. He still feels the deep wound in his heart from their breakup - and although it was one hundred and ten percent his fault, Alexander still craves any form of closure Eliza can give him.

It’d only be better if she’d take him back.

But what happens between Thomas and him if he gets back together with her? Nothing, he supposes, not like anything would happen between them if Eliza didn’t forgive him. Alexander keeps confusing Thomas’s fake feelings as real ones and its starting to fuck with his head. Deep down, Alexander knows that it’s all part of an extremely complicated rouse to fool his family into thinking they’re in love. He knows that every look, every touch, every kiss is part of this elaborate plan. He knows that Thomas isn’t in love with him.

But, God, Alexander questions that statement every time their fingers link together like pieces of a puzzle that was only made for them. He questions it every time Thomas’s face softens when they make eye contact. He questions it every night when they unconsciously huddle together underneath Thomas’s ridiculously nice comforter and then proceed to ignore it in the morning.

He’s got to stop looking into everything. He needs to stop focusing on the tiny details, and instead focus on the destination. Columbia. At the present moment, securing his tuition for next semester is at the top of Alexander’s to do list. Because if he can’t afford to pay for Columbia next semester, it doesn’t matter if Eliza forgives him or if Thomas’s shy glances might be real because he’d be out of New York before he knew it. Rent in New York isn’t cheap, after all.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Thomas says conversationally. Alexander looks up sharply, he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.

Alexander sighs, “You of all people should know that my thoughts are worth more than that.”

Thomas shoots him a look and Alexander relents, “I’m just thinking about Lafayette.” He murmurs, quickly adding on, “And, um, Washington.”

Perfect. Redirect the conversation onto someone else’s relationship and maybe it’ll help get Alexander out of his own head. It does remind him that he’d been meaning to get Thomas’s opinion on the whole ordeal.

“Oh yeah, I don’t understand how Washington can be so oblivious. Laf literally drools over him everyday in History.” Thomas says, thankfully letting the conversation follow that route. Alexander can barely resist pumping his fists in the air thankfully,

“I have no idea.” Alexander rolls his eyes, “Lafayette actually asked him for tutoring, and we both know he has an A in the class.”

Thomas bites down on his lip, and Alexander lets his eyes linger on the sight for a second too long, “Have you considered that maybe Washington knows?”

“I think he’d be a big enough person to let Lafayette down gently and not keep stringing him along if he knew. Lafayette’s getting his heart crushed by Washington’s lack of observation, and it’s not like Laf’s being subtle about it either.”

Alexander thinks he hears Thomas say something about how, “All guys must be oblivious,” But he promised himself he would stop looking into the details so instead of replying, he hums and focuses on the road in front of them.

Thomas follows the directions Mary sent him, and within half an hour they pull into the parking lot of a restaurant.

“You ever been here before?” Alexander asks as he steps out of the car, gift in hand.

“Never,” Thomas shakes his head as he walks around to link hands with Alexander. They walk silently into the restaurant.

“Reservations for Jefferson.” Thomas smiles kindly at the hostess in front of them. She looks down at her tablet before ushering them to follow her. She walks them into a back room and tells them their waiter will be joining them shortly before smiling and walking away.

“Oh my God.” Alexander gasps as he takes in the room they’re in. It’s far enough from the main eating area that the room is almost silent. The walls are a dark brown colour, and compliment the gold chairs nicely. There is a single red rose in the center of the table, and strands of beautiful white lights hanging around the room. It’s effortlessly beautiful and so romantic that Alexander sighs as he sits down.

“They went all out, didn’t they?” He asks Thomas with a grin.

Thomas sits tense and slowly rubs the back of his neck with his hands, “It’s not too much is it?”

Alexander glances up at the lights surrounding them, “No.” He says with a soft smile, “It’s perfect.”

Thomas looks as though he’s about to say something else when the waiter walks in. He introduces himself and then fills their flutes with champagne and Alexander takes a quick sip from the glass. The champagne is crisp and cold against his throat and he swallows gratefully.

A few minutes later, and a flute and a half of champagne for Alex, they decide on what they want to eat. Alexander, for once in his life, is feeling entirely unproblematical and lets Thomas order for him. He listens intently to the way the french words roll of Thomas’s tongue. They’re beautifully spoken, dipped in just the slightest amount of Thomas’s Virginian accent that makes Alexander’s toes curl and his heart race.

They laugh over their drinks, and end up splitting an appetizer that makes Alexander’s mouth water. It’s lighthearted conversations, full of teasing and smiles, and Alexander realizes that it’s the longest they’ve gone without fighting. He finds himself getting lost in the cool bubbles of the champagne, the way Thomas’s lips form words, and the soft drip of rain falling onto the roof.

When their main entree comes, Alexander is pleasantly surprised by the intense flavour that comes from his dish. He lets out a soft moan when his teeth pull apart the meat and the juice breaks across his tongue. It’s so good that he can’t even find it in himself to feel embarrassed when Thomas raises a knowing eyebrow at him.

When it comes time for desert, they end up splitting a slice of lemon berry savain and Alexander doesn’t feel at all bad when he steals the last bite from Thomas’s spoon with a grin.

The waiter comes to clear their table and then, without the distraction of food, Alexander decides that it’s the perfect time for Thomas to open his gift.“You have to open this now.” Alexander murmurs as he passes Thomas the gold box. He’s not drunk, just a little bubbly from drinking so much champagne. Thomas, on the other hand, had kept to half a flute so that he could drive them back. Thomas grabs the box and sits it down on the table in front of him. He runs his long fingers over the box and then slides off the bow. He pulls the lid off and slowly opens it. Thomas shifts through the purple paper and then his movements still. At once, Thomas throws his head back to let out a loud laugh.

“Alex, it’s perfect.” He smiles at Alexander as he drags his fingers down the wooden cane. “Thank you.” Thomas bites his lip again and Alexander has to force his eyes to not focus on it.

“You know, I’ve been looking for a new cane lately.” Thomas sighs, “I suppose you should open yours now too, huh?” Thomas says as he passes over a small rectangular box. It’s plain white and Alexander can’t even begin to imagine what Thomas could have gotten him.

He pulls open the box and can’t help the gasp that escapes his mouth when he sees what it is.

“I know it’s not much-” Thomas starts but Alexander interrupts him quickly, “I love it. I’ve wanted one for so long, but I’ve never been able to afford it.”

He slowly pulls the leather journal from the box and cradles it in his hands. Alexander can tell that it’s ridiculously expensive before he even opens it. He runs his fingers along the front cover, tracing the golden engraved “A.Ham” with his thumb. His cheeks tinge with pink as he stares at the journal.

“Thank you.” Alexander says, a myriad of emotions running through his mind. He feels like he could hug the Virginian.

Thomas puts the lid back on his box and sits it down on the table, “Happy anniversary, Alexander.” He grins.

Alexander drags his eyes away from the journal to look into Thomas’s shining eyes, “Happy anniversary.”

They end up leaving the restaurant twenty minutes later, after the rain has died down enough that they can make it to the car without getting drenched. The air is chilly though, and Thomas doesn’t seem to think twice before slipping out of his Purple Coat™ and wrapping it around Alexander’s shoulders. It’s ridiculously long on him, the sleeves falling too far on his tiny arms. It smells like Thomas though, and it’s still warm from the Virginian’s body heat. It’s soft against his skin, and Alexander kind of feels like royalty in it. In that moment, he understands why Thomas seems so attached to it.

Thomas wraps his arms around Alexander’s waist and they sprint through the parking lot before climbing into the car. Alexander puts their gifts in the backseat as Thomas pulls onto the road. The sky is dark, and the rain continues falling lightly onto the windshield as they drive. Alexander is happily tipsy as he relaxes into the seat and stares out his window.

“Can I ask you something?” Thomas says quietly just as Alexander’s about to drift into unconsciousness. He snuggles farther into Thomas’s jacket before responding, “Anything.”

Thomas licks his lips and his eyes stay firmly on the road, “What are you planning on doing with the money.”

He wants to ask what money, wants to play naive for both of their sakes.

He’s too tired for that though, so he murmurs his responds instead. “I’m going to use if for tuition next semester.” Alexander says as he stifles a yawn in the sleeve of Thomas’s coat. “Why do you want to know?” He asks as an afterthought.

Thomas starts to say something, but sleep pulls Alexander down into the abyss too quickly to understand the reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Myriad, nice. 
> 
> Next chapter: The Club


	9. The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They dance, and John knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Please let me know what you think. x
> 
> (I posted this quickly, so it's unedited but I'll make changes later)

When Mary had first suggested that Thomas and Alexander join her and John on a night out clubbing the day that they first arrived in Monticello, Alexander had been quick to accept. After all Alex had just meet her, and being Thomas’s sister, he was desperately seeking her approval. It was just as quickly, thought, that Alexander allowed the thought to be pushed to the back of his head, buried underneath ideas of essays and conflicting feelings. It wasn’t necessarily a conscience move, but the idea of clubbing was replaced by much more pressing issues. Like, 

  1. James Madison
  2. James Madison
  3. James _Fucking_ Madison



It is because he allows the thought to be pushed to the back of his head, that it’s a surprise - not only to Alexander but Thomas too - when Mary interrupts them on Friday talking about a night out on the town. 

Alexander pulls back from where Thomas is kissing him to look at her questioningly. They’re on the living room couch, Alexander practically sitting in Thomas’s lap as they give her the grossest make out session ever. He’d heard Mary say something, but the words went right through one ear and came out the other. 

“What?” Alexander asks Mary when it becomes obvious that she’s not going to leave. He thinks she said something about dancing, but he’s not quite sure what she meant. Thomas moves from kissing his lips to trailing wet hot kisses down Alexander’s throat. He wants to pull away, but makes an internal compromise and allows himself to keep his fingers tangled in Thomas’s hair as he tries to focus on whatever Mary’s saying. 

“We’re going clubbing tonight! You guys can’t flake, Alexander said you would go with us!” She pouts, and crosses her hands in a pleading gesture. Alexander’s trying to focus on her words, but Thomas’s beard tickles his neck and he can’t help the laugh that slips from his mouth. 

“Thomas!” Mary snaps, her voice still light but taking on a tone of annoyance. It’s the most not positive emotion that he’s ever heard in her voice. Then, as if the outburst didn’t happen, she smooths her shirt and smiles. 

Thomas pulls away from Alexander to smile sheepishly at his sister. Alexander hides his laugh behind his hands and looks back up at her. He’s never been able to be serious when it’s needed the most. 

“Tonight. We’re going to Dino's’ Club tonight, okay? You can either ride with us or meet us there, but John and I are leaving at nine and you guys better be there!”

Thomas leaves a sweet kiss on Alexander’s cheek before turning to his sister and speaking, “We might as well just ride with you guys.” He says with a deep sigh. 

Mary winks at them with a happy smile and turns on her heals to walk away, all traces of her previous annoyance gone and replaced with her usual buoyancy. Alexander looks at Thomas and tries to display every ounce of his reluctance through one single glance. “Seriously?”

  
“Hey don’t be mad at me,” Thomas smiles, “You were the one who agreed to go with them in the first place.” Thomas pushes Alexander’s legs off him and stands up, leaving a spluttering Alexander in his wake. 

“It was the first day!” Alexander yells in his defense at Thomas’s retreating body, “I had just met her!” The only thing he hears is a laugh in return. 

Alexander decides that since he has a few hours to waste before getting ready, he can sneak back into the library and read a little. He’s been meaning to get his hands on and re-read Animal Farm, and he knows Thomas has it. It’s the perfect book to get himself to stop thinking. When all else fails, he can always rely on a good political allegory to get him out of his head. 

He walks to the library; his socks sliding against the cool hardwood floor. He’s been here for a week and at last he’s finally relaxing into his role as the perfect boyfriend Thomas had wanted. He’s becoming more comfortable with Thomas, and in turn growing more comfortable with their close contact. Alexander’s growing fond of his siblings and mother, and he’s falling into the routine of being his fake boyfriend. The most alarming, however, is that he’s getting used to the feeling of Thomas’s lips against his own. 

So, naturally, it’s about the perfect time for him to fuck things up. 

Alexander walks into the library and finds himself taking a deep breath. It smells like books and summer, and Alexander feels a smile cross his face from the utter peace that wafers from the room. He’t not blessed with many places of solitude back in New York, so this is one place that Alexander already knows he’s going to miss. He walks across the room and grabs the worn copy of Animal Farm from the shelf. He sits down in the chair closest to the window and opens the book. The light from outside the window falls across the pages and he settles comfortably as he begins to read. 

Alexander at once falls back into that familiar head space that he’s so used to.It’s the head space that’s gotten him through college, the one that got him through countless essays that were due the next morning, through presentations that needed to be done in mere hours. The head space where he becomes so in tune with his work that nothing interrupts him, that nothing has the chance to penetrate the bubble of his closed consciences. Not Burr’s pissed typing in the library at Columbia, not John’s drunken ramblings at Lafayette’s apartment, not even Lafayette’s loudly spoken poetry about George Washington’s eyes at four in the morning. Therefore, when Thomas walks into the library at eight o’clock, Alexander doesn’t notice. He doesn’t notice as Thomas walks over and stands in front of him. It's only when the Virginian coughs quite unsubtle that Alexander looks up. 

And oh what a sight is he blessed with. It seems like Christmas has come early to Monticello. 

If he thought Thomas’s outfit on their date was sexy, then the one he is wearing now is downright  _ sinful _ . He’s wearing the tightest pants known to man, and their in a startling scarlet red colour that looks simply divine against his dark skin. His shirt is a simple black button up, and he’s wearing a jacket over his shoulders that is the same colour as his pants. Alexander’s breath is sucked out of him at the sight. Alexander looks up from the red pants - which because he is sitting are level with his eyes - and looks at Thomas’s face. The Virginian looks equal parts smug and embarrassed and Alexander can’t help but smile at how endearing that look is on him. 

“I suppose I should get ready, huh?” He mumbles absentmindedly as he bites his lip; his attention is more focused on Thomas’s outfit than anything else. 

“You should, yeah.” Thomas says with a small smile flirting across his face, that causes Alexander’s heart to thump particularly hard in his chest. He looks so devastatingly handsome that Alexander’s almost starstruck. 

Thomas holds out his hand and Alexander cheekily closes the book and places it title side down onto his open palm. The moment reminds him of when Eliza would take his books and laptop and hide them, so that he’d finally go to bed. She was the only reason he ever went to bed most nights, mostly because she always hated sleeping alone. 

“Now is not the time to reminisce.” Alexander chastises himself as he slips out of the library. They’ll be time to think about her - and all the complicated emotions that surround her - when he’s not about to go clubbing with his former arch nemesis, like when he’s sleeping next to aforementioned former arch nemesis. Alexander scoffs out loud and rolls his eyes as he walks into Thomas’s room. He’s really got to get out of his head and focus on one thing at a time. 

Like Angelica had said, what seemed like so long ago, he really is the only enemy he ever seems to lose to.

He slides into a pair of jeans and pairs it with a black shirt and his grey sweater™. It doesn’t matter what he wears, because he knows his clothes won’t - and can’t - stand a chance next to Thomas’s. The man looks like a freaking Adonis and Alexander’s over here running on three and a half hours of sleep; he’s accepted that by now the dark circles under his eyes are a permanent feature of his. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and hopes that he gives off the impression that he has his things together (he doesn’t), and goes downstairs to find his fake boyfriend after one final glance in the floor length mirror. He looks okay - doable would probably be a better word - but doable is an improvement from his usual looks, so he’s not going to complain. 

Thomas does a double take the second Alexander’s feet hit the bottom stair, and then he’s flashing a gorgeous smiling in Alex’s direction. Alexander blushes - like a fucking fourteen year old - and walks over to his fake boyfriend, Mary, and John who are waiting by the door. “You ready?” Thomas asks him as he leans down to peck Alexander lightly on the lips. It was intended as a chaste kiss, but Alexander presses into the kiss for a second too long before breaking away and smiling, “Yeah.” He replies, his voice a little too breathy to be subtle. Thomas must not pick up on it, thought, because he simply smiles and offers Alexander his hand. He accepts the offered arm and lets Thomas pull him outside. 

**

He can hear the music pounding before they even enter the club. Mary smiles at the buff man standing outside the door and he immediately holds the door open for the four of them to pass in. Alexander’s first impression of the place is something along the lines of, “Fuck.” It’s completely different than New York clubs, but the energy is the same. The music pumps ferociously through the air and Alexander can feel his blood start to pump harder through his veins. He’s itching to dance, the music coursing through his veins like the blood itself. The lights flash across the ceiling, spurring the room into an array of colours. Hues of pink, purple, and red flash above them. It lights their skin on fire, leaves them burning to move, to dance, to do something. 

“Shots!” John calls, and pulls the three of them towards the bar. Alexander’s eyes are trained on his fake boyfriend’s, unable to take them off the beautiful man in front of him. He looks stunning under the pink and purple lights as they shine down on them. They cast his face into shadows, emphasizing his strong jawline and the soft curve of his nose. 

“And for you,” Mary yells, passing over two shot glasses. Alexander takes it gratefully, and grabs a lime off the plate in front of them. He licks his salt covered hand and lets Thomas drizzle a few grains onto his skin. 

“Cheers!” John says, and then at the same time Alexander licks the salt, downs the shot, and stuffs the lime into his mouth. He winces a little at the burn of the tequila, heavy in his mouth but not entirely unpleasant. It reminds him of freshman year of college. Of trying to down as much alcohol and have as much sex as possible, all while maintaining his position in student government and keeping his 4.0. Unpleasant at best, but not impossible. 

They eventually move onto the dance floor, and Alexander grabs Mary’s hand and pulls her into a dance with him. Their bodies move in tandem and Mary grips his shoulder when she throws her head back to let out a loud laugh at something stupid Alexander had muttered. He feels anonymous under the dark of the room, and lets her twirl in his arms with a grin.  

John eventually comes to steal her for a dance and Alexander squints as he takes in his surroundings. Mary and John are dancing next to him, but Alexander can’t seem to find Thomas. A stranger appears before him and Alexander can’t help but take the bait. He lets the stranger pull him into a dance, and twirls his way out of it almost immediately. He grins at the man in the dark, and beings pushing his way through the crowd of grinding bodies until he gets to the bar. It’s there that he sees Thomas leaned over a glass of wine and completely out of his comfort zone. 

He really wishes he could fake confidence like Thomas can. The prick. 

“First off, only assholes order wine at a club. Secondly, come dance with me.” Alexander laughs out as he practically drapes himself over the Virginian’s lap. 

Thomas gives him that look; the one he’s seen countless times. The one that’s full of annoyance, amusement, and something else that Alex can’t place. “Come on, I know you can dance. Remember that one time.” Alexander teases, thinking back to the time he walked in on Thomas dancing alone in their dorm to The All American Rejects. Even back then, Alexander could admit that it was quite the sight. A bare chested Jefferson dancing around their room to Dirty Little Secret, his hair tied back and a layer of sweat covering his body.

Thomas must remember too, because he looks extremely embarrassed and drains the rest of his glass before reluctantly reaching out to grab Alexander’s arm. 

Alexander all but pulls the man’s arm off in his efforts to get to the dance floor. Thomas gives Alexander a little twirl, and he can’t help the squeal of happiness that is ripped from his throat. He rolls his head to the side and lets his hands run up Thomas’s back and wrap around his shoulders. Thomas’s hands are like heavy weights on his waist as their bodies move back and forth. In that moment, all that’s there is them. All that is important is them. It’s almost mystical, the way they fit together so nicely, their hips close and Alexander’s hands trying to touch every part of Thomas’s body that he can reach. The lights flash above them, and Alexander tips his head back and looses himself in the rhythm. 

They grind to the beat for a song, before Alexander switches positions to push his backside against Thomas’s chest. He is breathing heavy, pushing his ass back and letting his hand reach behind him to grab onto Thomas. Thomas’s arms wrap around his sides, large hands pressed against the taunt muscles in his stomach. It’s incredibly intense, and Alexander knows that in this moment, he is totally fucked. 

Their hips grind in tandem, a beautiful sort of harmony that makes Alexander’s breath catch in his throat. He throws his head back onto Thomas’s chest, and pants as Thomas’s mouth finds the side of his neck. Thomas nuzzles his neck, his breathing just as hard as Alex’s, and it lights a dizzy smile across Alexander’s face. 

The lights are flashing and the music is thumping so loudly that Alexander allows himself to get lost in the moment again. In that moment, it’s just the music and their bodies thrumming together anonymously in the crowd of people. 

“Fuck,” He hears Thomas hiss under his breath and it tears a half laugh - half sob from his throat. God, there’s twenty different reasons Alexander can name as to why he shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be taking something so complicated and making it, somehow, even more complicated. 

Thomas flips them before Alexander has a minute to process his thoughts, and then they’re pressed chest to chest again. His body is on fire, and the shots are finally kicking in. He figures if he’s going to make things complicated, he might as just go all out. He leans up to press his lips to Thomas’s, and shivers as their breaths intermingle. Their lips together feel so familiar that Alexander lets out a content sigh. Their bodies keep grinding to the music and Alexander hums in appreciation when Thomas lets his tongue run alongside his bottom lip. 

It seems as though they’ve both have mutually agreed to “fuck it,” and Thomas thrusts his tongue into Alex’s mouth. He pushes back, his teeth finding Thomas’s bottom lip and biting it gently. 

His hands are everywhere: rubbing up Thomas’s back, tangling in his hair, running across his chest. Thomas’s hands follow almost the same pattern, and Alexander’s body is on fire in all the places they touch, leaving a trail of flames in the path that his hands take. They’re on his hips, then his ass, then following his spine, and then tangling almost painfully in his hair. It’s good though, almost too good for Alexander to comprehend. 

He’s not drunk enough to blame his decisions on the alcohol and he doesn’t think Thomas is that drunk either. 

Eventually, Alexander breaks away from the Virginian. He looks up into Thomas’s dark eyes and feels the air pulled out of his lungs for the umpteenth time that night. He makes a vague motion in the direction of the bar, and hopes that Thomas gets the message. He mouths, “Water.” and then Thomas is grabbing his hands and helping escort him through the mass of grinding people. They reach the bar, and Alexander lets his body collapse onto one of the stools. 

“Water please.” He tells the bartender, “Make that two.” He adds on when he sees Thomas standing next to him, looking a little more relaxed and a lot more exhausted. 

“Hey,” Thomas smiles at him, and it pleasantly surprises Alexander. It’s not his usual smile. It’s not his 10,000 watt, blinding and dazzling show smile either. It’s more of a nervous smile, but no less dazzling, and it makes Alexander’s heart sing just as much. 

“You look like you could use this,” Alexander grins as he pushes the water into Thomas’s hands. He watches Thomas’s throat as he takes a long gulp from the water, and slowly takes a sip from his own. 

Alexander feels disgusting, covered in a thin layer of sweat and currently smelling like thirteen different people’s cologne and perfumes. His legs are tired, his heart is pounding dutifully, and he’s halfway confused. He takes great comfort in knowing everything’s going to be twenty times more confusing in the morning. 

He takes another sip from his glass, and turns to face the Virginian. He’s made the executive decision that they aren’t going to talk about this, at least not tonight, no matter what Thomas says. 

His brain is fuzzy from the alcohol and his heart is racing from dancing, and he just wants one night to enjoy this before he has to start questioning every move he makes, for fear that Thomas might be able to read his inner turmoil like a book. For fear of fucking up everything they’ve built. 

“Can I have this dance?” Alexander says after he finishes drinking his water. 

Thomas sends him another one of those shaky smiles and grabs his hand, pulling him into the mass of people. 

What seems like hours later, they meet back up with John and Mary and grab a booth in the far corner. Alexander feels like he’s drenched in sweat and he knows Thomas is no better. His heart is still pounding from their last dance, and he gratefully accepts the drink that Mary pushes in front of him. 

“Thomas come with me to get some shots?” Mary says, and grabs his hand. She pulls him from the booth and in the direction of the bar. 

Alexander waves at Thomas and then turns his attention back to John. He’s been staying at Monticello for a week, and he’s only spoken to the man on a couple of occasions. 

He’s about to open his mouth to say something- to make small talk -, when John speaks first. “Can I ask you something?” He says, voice loud and over the music. 

Alexander’s not sure what John could want to know, but he’s curious so he shakes his head yes. 

“It’s fake, isn’t it?”

Alexander’s eyes grow wide and he feels his stomach drop to his feet. A million thoughts go through his mind at once, and they all range from “Oh fuck,” to “Does this mean I’m not getting the 6,000$”. He’s trying to come up with something to say, anything to say, instead of sitting here with his mouth open like a fucking idiot. He’s running through everything he learned about damage control in Intro to Public Relations last year and he’s coming up blank. Which sucks, considering he used three full notebooks in that class alone. He had taken detailed notes, figuring he would probably need it in the future.

He realizes that he’s been sitting silent for at least a minute, his mouth open and nothing coming out. He figures that the best damage control is to play oblivious. 

Alexander lets out a shaky laugh, which is just on the side of too airy, “What do you mean?”

John raises an eyebrow, and Alexander recognizes it as a look he often sees on Mary’s face. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” Alexander spits out when it becomes obvious that John knows. 

John’s look softens and he smiles impishly at Alexander, “I wont.” He says and then leans forward, “I wasn’t quite sure, but I had my suspicions.”

Alexander swallows and curses himself for giving them away, “What gave us away?” He inquires, maybe if he figures out where they went wrong, he can fix it and nobody else will notice. 

“You’re both fine actors,” John says as he takes a sip from his glass, “Maybe that’s what gave you away. Thomas kisses you and you kiss back, but when he pulls away, you look at him with such longing. Almost like you were longing for something you couldn’t have.” 

Alexander swallows and looks over to where Mary and Thomas are talking to the bartender. 

“You’re quite perceptive, John.” Alexander sighs, “Does Mary know?”

John turns to look at his girlfriend with a small smile on his face, “No, she doesn’t.”

It’s in that moment, Alexander realizes he needs to figure out what the fucks going on in his head. He knows that he doesn’t hate Thomas, knows that he’s got all these feelings that he can’t place. He knows that when their lips meet, there’s nothing Alexander wants more then to never pull away. 

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” John supplies helpfully, as if he can read Alexander’s mind. Which would be quite the feat, considering Alexander doesn’t even know what’s going on in his head. 

He looks down at the wood table and feels his buzz waver, “I couldn’t tell him because I don’t know what I’m feeling, and whatever it is that I’m feeling I know he doesn’t feel it in return.”

Thomas and Mary’s voices are so close that Alexander smiles and pretends they weren’t having a ridiculously deep conversation about his not quite known feelings for Thomas. John frowns, and his mouth opens like he wants to say more but then Mary and Thomas are sliding back into the booth and he, thankfully, lets it drop. 

Thomas kisses his cheek and hands him a shot. 

Alexander curses himself for getting so caught up in his head again. He takes a deep breath and smiles. He’s fine. He can do this. 

Two more weeks and he’s back in New York. Back with John and Hercules, back to hearing Lafayette talk about Washington. 

Maybe even back with Eliza. 

There’s a voice in the back of his head that whispers that he doesn’t want that, that he wants to stay curled up in Thomas’s arms forever. It’s not like he’s ever listened to that particular voice, though, so instead of thinking about it, he downs the shot and smiles. 

He’s fine. He can do this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Sister  
> (and I'm not talking about Thomas's)


	10. The Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Hamilton Roast, and Alexander has no control over his emotions.
> 
> (ALSO JOHN LAURENS)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get as many chapters out this week as possible, since I'm going to be out of state next week. 
> 
> We've officially reached 1/3rd of the way!!
> 
> You're comments and kudos are my oxygen; thank you so much for your kind words.

Alexander’s eyes are closed, and he’s tucked deep underneath Thomas’s comforter. He’s not entirely sure what woke him up, but he’s too tired to move so he curls farther down into the bed and sighs.

He’s about to fall back asleep, so close to the dark emptiness that he can taste it, when a blast of cold air hits his lower legs and the his side. He shivers on instinct and lets out a loud grumble.

“Sorry, darlin.” Thomas whispers from the foot of the bed; his voice deep and rough from the early morning.

Alexander sits up, the comforter falling down and pooling around his waist. He looks at Thomas, whose got one leg in his grey sweatpants, and nothing else on except his deep purple boxers. Alexander’s too tired to be embarrassed at seeing Thomas in nothing but his boxers for the first time but he’s not too tired to notice the red blush that flirts across his fake boyfriend’s face.

“Where you goin?” He mumbles sleepily, his accent glaringly obvious as he drags his hands across his eyes. It’s got to be no later than six in the morning and Alexander’s exhausted. He’s not a morning person the way it is, and whatever morning agreeableness he has declines rapidly after a night with alcohol. They didn’t get home until three last night and Alex doesn’t know how Thomas can look so awake. Alexander’s legs hurt, his back hurts, and he’s got just enough of a pounding in his head to remind him of how much alcohol he drank last night. It’s a reminder of why he normally chooses working over clubbing with his friends back in New York.

Thomas slides a tee shirt over his shoulders and comes to Alexander’s side of the bed. He sits down on the bed beside Alexander’s feet and slides into his shoes. “I’m going to James’. He needs some help getting things ready for the party.”

Alexander feels his frown dip down in the corners, disappointment sitting low in his stomach. James’ of course. He gets that their friends; he of all people should understand the dynamic between “Jefferson and Madison”. He does, after all, put up with the two on a daily basis in Student Government. It still rubs him the wrong way. He hates when Thomas says James' name, and he definitely isn’t happy that Thomas is running out of the bed at six in the morning to go be with James, even if he's just going to help him get ready for his stupid party. 

He hates that he can’t help but wonder if the dynamic that is “Jefferson and Madison” is as platonic as he had originally thought. Laurens seems to think that the two were, or are, fucking and Alexander can’t say that the thoughts never crossed his mind. It wouldn’t bother him if they were fucking though, Alexander of all people has no room to judge other people’s sex lives. Thomas is a grown man, he’s allowed to like having sex, Alexander can’t judge him for that.

He just hates the fact that Thomas might like having sex with James Madison.

“Is that okay?” Thomas whispers, his voice a soft kiss in the dark quiet of the room. His eyes are full of something that Alexander can’t place. He wants to scream “no,” wants to somehow convince Thomas not to go to James’, but he’s tired and he’s confused.

“Yeah, of course it is. I’m not your mom, and I’m not your boyfriend. You don’t have to ask me for permission to hang out with _Madison_.” He spits the name out with too much venom to be subtle. He hadn’t intended for his words to be so cruel, but alas here they were. He regrets the words before they’re even out of his mouth.

Alexander can see the moment that Thomas closes himself off; his armor flying up faster than Alexander could say “Emotional barricades.” His body language becomes almost rigid and his eyes take on an uninterested glaze. “I’ll see you later.” Thomas says, his face closed off and completely passive, not a single emotion on his face for Alexander to read. Thomas stands up from the bed, grabs his phone from the dresser next to his side of the bed and shoves it in his pocket.

“Thomas, wait-” Alexander says as Thomas’s hand reaches for the door. Thomas freezes, his back becoming tense and then turning to look at Alexander.

“I’m sorry. I just- I’m tired.” He mumbles, knowing the excuse is beyond lame- an unfair.

Thomas’s lips quirk up into a soft smile and his armor subsides a few inches. The castle walls surrounding him deflate and Alexander internally sighs in relief.

“Get some sleep, spend the day in the library. I’ll see you when I get back. Okay?” Thomas’s voice is comforting like rain on a window and Alexander finds himself smiling sleepily.

“Okay.” Alexander replies, and Thomas pulls the door shut quietly. He lays back down in the bed, curling the comforter tightly around his body. He shuts his eyes and prays for sleep to once again overtake him, but after a few wasted minutes of laying there, Alexander sits back up with a frustrated huff. He grabs his phone off the bedside table and reads the one unopened message.

_From john: Call me when you get a chance? We miss you._

The message brings a small and sleepy smile to his face as he tucks himself back into the bed. He shuffles over to Thomas’s side of the bed and buries his face in Thomas’s pillow.

He breathes in the smell of the pillow. It smells like Thomas, like a mixture of all the things that make him the person that he is. The most noticeable smell is coconut, which Alexander knows comes from the man’s shampoo. There’s also a trace of lavender and something else that smells like Thomas’s moisturizer. The pillow also smells of condescension and bad political opinions, Alexander thinks with a grin.

He throws his phone to the other side of the bed (his side) and pulls the blanket up to his chin. He yawns and closes his eyes, letting the peacefulness lure him into unconsciousness.

**

When Alexander wakes with a yawn three hours later, the sun is streaming brightly into the room. He lets his hand brush out across the sheets and tries to stop the three annoyingly loud yawns that overtake his body.

He’s feeling better than he did earlier, more agreeable but no less disappointed by Thomas’s quick departure. It’s not his fault, he reasons, he just likes waking up beside a warm body. Sue him.

Alexander’s mouth is gross and his hair is uncomfortably stuck to his neck and face. Using a spare hair tie from Thomas’s desk drawer, Alexander flips his head upside down and gathers his hair before tying it into a low bun.

He makes his way to the bathroom and sleepily brushes his teeth and washes his face, all while ignoring the continuously growing bags beneath his eyes. He spits into the sink with an air of disgust and dries his mouth with a towel.

Alexander makes his way to leave the bathroom, when he stops and looks at himself in the mirror. He’s not hideous. Sure he could use a moisturizer, and something to help blur out the wrinkles that have formed around his brow from his “thinking face” as Eliza had called it. He’s in desperate need of a shave; there are too many out of place hairs around his goatee to be considered “stray”. From the looks of the dark circles beneath his eyes, he could use a few more hours of sleep too.

His eyes haven’t changed though.

If anything, his eyes are the only physical feature of his that haven’t suffered at the hands of his carelessness and utter lack of personal preservation skills. (Although his lack of preservation skills was a debatable topic. He had them, but often used them to worsen a situation - i.e. The Reynolds Post - instead of helping it or himself.)

John was the first person to point how how beautiful his eyes were. It was back when they had first met each other, and blindingly fell from strangers to lovers in a matter of days. John had pointed out how distractedly beautiful they were over dinner one night. It had surprised Alexander, who at the time was not used to such candid declarations. Their flame quickly died after that dinner. Although their physical spark remained, Alexander had chosen friendship over a casual hookup relationship.

Then there was Angelica; clever, sharp-witted, intelligent beyond her years. Her cunning eyes and the almost dangerous curve to her lips. He had immediately taken to her when they first met, at the Schuyler’s winter party freshman year. He had been in the corner, talking with Burr and Laurens about the Schuyler sister, when he saw her. She emitted such a radiant vibe that Alexander’s attention was immediately drawn to her. He was going to wait until further into the evening to introduce himself, when he saw Lafayette in path towards the oldest sister. Tossing back the rest of his drink, he made a beeline to his friend and stepped between Lafayette and Angelica at the last moment. He introduced himself and flirted shamelessly. Angelica had seemed suspicious at first but quickly warmed up to his obvious flirtation, and then she was grabbing his arm and pulling him across the room.

It wasn’t until a month into his relationship with Eliza, that Angelica admitted why she introduced them in the first place. “She was helpless, Alexander, and I could tell you were smart. She needs someone like you in her life.”

He had raised an eyebrow and asked, “How could you tell that I was smart?”

She pursed her lips and looked away, “You have intelligent eyes.”

Then there was Eliza, herself. Who had told him that she knew they were soulmates the second she saw him at the party. She had explained that she saw him from across the room and sought out Angelica to introduce Alex to her. Eliza told him that she was nervous when she saw Angelica talking to him, because Angelica was so much interesting then her, but then he looked over at Eliza. She said that the moment she looked into her eyes, she knew the sky was the limit. She was helpless.

He can’t help but wonder if Thomas likes his eyes. He scoffs the second the thought crosses his mind, disgusted with himself. Frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck what Thomas thinks. He rolls his eyes and leaves the bathroom. He makes his way downstairs, swings by the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee and greet Jane, and then heads towards the library.

He figures that Laurens is probably awake by now, and he’s starting to desperately miss his friend’s voice.

The library looks the same as it always does, and Alexander grabs his normal seat by the window. He goes to his favourites and taps John Lauren’s name and holds the phone up to his ear. It connects within a minute.

“Good morning Hammie.” Laurens greets him, and Alexander can practically hear his grin through the phone, “It is morning there, right?”

Alexander snorts, “Virginia’s on the same time zone as New York, John.”

He can hear the cheeky smile he gets in return. “That was a joke, Alex.” Laurens sighs into the phone, “I miss you, kid. We all miss you. How’re things in the South, actually how are things with Jefferson?”

“I miss you too, and everyone else. Things are good here, things with Thomas are good.”

Alexander crosses his legs and listens to John’s reply, “So first name basis, huh? Things are getting serious.”

“We’re pretending to date, John, you think me calling him Jefferson in front of his family wouldn’t be suspicious?” Alexander explains, making sure to keep his voice quiet. Monticello is huge, but he can’t take the chance that someone might walk by and overhear the conversation. He knows that Elizabeth has a penchant for seeking out quiet in the library, and it’d be hard to use his PR skills to get himself out of that one.

“So it’s all still pretend?” John asks, his voice hiding something Alex can't place.

Alexander swallows, “You don’t just fall in love with someone because you spend a week together. We kiss on occasion. That’s it. I’m just here for the six thousand dollars.” He can’t stop his voice from rambling, and he knows that John’s going to call him out on his over compensating. John must be in a particularly good mood, because he lets it go without word and instead changes the subject to Eliza.

“Does that mean you still want to get back together with Eliza?”

"Without a doubt," Alexander lies. He does want to get back with her, but he can’t say that he wants to without a doubt. He has several doubts, one of which’s name is Thomas Jefferson. He promised himself last night that he’d start working through this mess of thoughts he has tangled in his mind. Alexander decides that he’ll procrastinate on that one though, the pile too deep and too tangled for him to begin to shift through.

“Why don’t you call Angelica?” Laurens inquires with a shift in his tone.

“I’m sorry, John. I don’t actually want to be killed today.” Alexander snaps back. Call Angelica? That’s laughable. He’d sooner drown himself in the Potomac or jump into traffic, they’d be arguably less painful.

“Just think about it for a second, Alex. Angelica’s your best shot at this moment. You know Eliza and Peggy won’t pick up your calls, but Angelica will be so mad that she’ll answer just so that she can yell at you.” John begins to explain, and Alexander can almost picture the way he’s no doubt gesturing with his hands.

“Because being yelled at by Angelica’s on the top of my to do list today.” Alexander growls dryly.

“After she stops yelling, she’ll want to hear your response. That’s when you plead with her to get Eliza to talk to you.” John says like it was obvious.

“That’s.” Alexander frowns, “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Exactly. I’ve got to go, so we'll talk later. Love you, Ham. Call Angelica. I miss your delightful ass." 

Alexander manages to get a out an “I love you too,” before the line goes dead.

He looks down at the phone, screen now pulled up to his contacts. Right on top is the one that he wants. “A comma after dearest”. His finger hovers over the contact for a few seconds before he decides to “fuck it” and put his lack of self preservation skills to good use. He clicks the contact and holds it up to his ear.

It rings once, then twice, then a third time, and then… a click.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Are the first words Angelica says, her voice ice cold and razor sharp.

“Angelica, please. Please let me talk to Eliza.” He tries but, like he expected, Angelica interrupts him.

“No, Alexander.” She spits his name like it alone is what’s wrong with the world, “I thought I had got my point across the first time we had this conversation. You’re literally in a class of your own at this point. A class of pure stupidity, and you created it yourself. Do you honestly think that you can take back what you did? The damage is irreversible. Did you even think it through? Honestly?” She stops to inhale a deep breath before continuing, “Did you even spare a thought about Eliza? About the embarrassment you would cause her? You refuted a rumor that three people knew by telling the entire campus - and everyone else - about how you cheated on my sister. What rational human being thinks that that’s a good idea? We all begged you to take a break, but you didn’t listen. I’ll repeat what I said before- you’re the only person you ever loose to, Alexander!”

Angelica lets out a cruel laugh, “And now you’re calling me to get to Eliza. Now. When you’re dating Thomas. Do you even care about anyone but yourself? Do you understand that everyone has feelings, Alexander, not just you! Let me take a lucky guess? You want to cheat on Thomas too? Are you going to publish an indecent, not safe for work, blog post about that affair too? Talk about how oblivious Thomas was to the whole thing? About how he’s sure to be devastated, but that in the long run he’d rather you post about your affair then for your name to be slandered by a stain as serious as being accused of stealing from student government.”

“No!” Alexander interrupts him, “Thomas and I are fake dating. It’s not real. He needed someone to help him out and I agreed.” He addresses the main issue, and avoids all mention of her comments about The Reynolds post.

That seems to make Angelica pause, “He asked you to help him, and you agreed?”

“Yes. Angelica, please listen to me. I’ll regret cheating on Eliza for the rest of my life. I love her more than anything. My heart aches at the thought of her. My world is nothing without her. Please, just have her call me. Angelica, please. I need her.”

He can hear her swallow through the phone. There’s a long pause. A few minutes later she responds, “I’ll talk to her. I can’t promise that she’ll listen, and I can’t promise that she’ll forgive you, but I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you, Angelica.” He breaths a sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected things to go this smoothly.

“I swear to God, Alexander. If you ever pull anything like this again-”

Alexander interrupts her, “I know. I will never again hurt her. I love her more than anything.”

“Good.” Angelica says, and the lines goes dead.

He was in no way expecting things to go that good. He was expecting the rude insults, the roast too, but he hadn’t expected her to waver that quickly. If he’s going to be honest, he expected her to hang up the second she answered. Or that she might not even answer at all.

To say he is pleasantly surprised by the turn of events would be an understatement.

Alexander locks his phone and heads back to the living room. Thomas still isn’t home, and Alexander is almost able to convince himself that the sinking feeling in his chest isn’t disappointment.

When they were back in New York, Alexander couldn’t wait to get away from the other man. Sharing a room with him was too much; his obnoxiousness was palpable even as he slept, and Alexander was always looking for an excuse to get out of the room. Back then, Thomas was always too much for him to stand. He couldn’t debate with him in Washington’s class, see him at Alexander’s favourite coffee shop during lunch, annoy him during student government, _and then_ go back to their dorm and see him again. It was too much, and was one of the reasons that Alexander has a guest room at John and Lafayette’s and probably also a less than stellar liver (handling Jefferson sober was a lot more difficult than it was when he was inebriated)

Now was a completely different story. Now, Alexander craves Thomas’s company like he used to crave success. Now, whenever they’re apart, Alex finds himself missing the other man. He misses their talks, misses his smile. Whenever they’re apart, Alexander wishes they were together. He’s come quite the full circle.

He’s sitting on the couch with Peter, watching some stupid cartoons on the television. His mind is much farther away, stuck back in New York with his friends. Stuck back in New York with Eliza. He’s still in the middling of figuring out how he feels, not just about Eliza but Thomas too. It’s obvious that there’s something sizzling under the facade of friendship they’ve built. A small flame that was once too trivial, but with the growing heat, becomes frightening. With each metaphorical piece of wood added and each soft breath of air onto the flame, it coils almost electrically. White, hot, heat that’s almost more unidentifiable now then it was at the beginning.

His inner monologue is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and a pair of keys being set down. He’s had so many late nights back in New York, that he can immediately recognize who the keys belong to.

A few seconds later, Thomas rounds the corner and enters the living room.

Alexander stays seated, even though every cell in his body screams at him to get up. He’s got the feeling that they’re still not completely okay, even if Thomas did seem to forgive him before he left this morning. He wants to ask, but it’s probably not a conversation he wants to bring up in front of Thomas’s mom and siblings.

“Alexander,” Thomas greets him with a small smile. It should be a crime to look as delightful and be as charming as the other man.

“Thomas.” Alexander says, as he stands up. He’s missed him so much in such a small period of time, that he wonders if it’s normal.

The air between them is still a little tense, crackling unsteadily with the electricity of their earlier conversation.

Thomas presses a soft and chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away, “It’s nice outside. Do you want to sit on the porch? We can talk.”

As much as he most definitely wants to sit on the porch, Alexander knows what this talk is going to be about. He knows they need to have it, and he almost wants to have it, but Alexander’s hesitant because he doesn’t know how much he can explain without giving away everything that he’s feeling. And to tell Thomas what he’s feeling, when he himself doesn’t truly understand what it is yet, would be putting Alexander in such a state of vulnerability that he cringes at the idea.

“Sure,” Alexander smiles at him. Thomas gives him another quick kiss on the lips before pulling away. “You can go and I’ll meet you out there.”

Alexander turns and makes his way towards the door. He steps outside into the Southern air and smiles. This is another thing he’ll miss when he’s in New York. The silence.

He takes a seat on the porch swing and waits. A second after he sits down, Thomas comes out the door. He pushes it open with his hips, both hands carrying drinks.

He comes and sits down beside Alexander and hands him one glass. It’s a glass cup, cold to the touch, and condensation thick on the sides. Inside is a yellow liquid and a few cubes of ice.

“Why’d you get me lemonade, when you’re drinking iced tea?”

Thomas takes a sip from his iced tea and turns to further face Alex, “You once said that the only capital crime should be putting ice in tea.”

Alexander lets out a laugh, because he does remember saying that, but he’s also never tried iced tea before. “Can I try it?” He asks softly, his teeth finding his bottom lip.

Thomas’s eyes look into Alexander’s before darting to his lips, and handing the glass over. Alexander makes eye contact as he takes a sip from the glass. It’s weird, but not entirely unpleasant. “I don’t even know how to feel about that.” Alexander admits, and he feels relieved when Thomas’s lips spread into a smile.

“Listen-” Alexander says at the same time that Thomas starts to speak.

“You go first,” Alexander bites his lip - tries not to scream when Thomas's eyes follow the movement - and smiles. 

“I know why you were upset this morning.” Thomas starts and Alexander feels his eyes go wide. Thomas knows? That’s impossible. How could he figure out that Alexander is jealous of James? Not that Alexander’s been very subtle about the whole thing to begin with. “It was unfair for me to leave you here. I just ditched you with my family, without warning and without taking into consideration how you might feel about it. I’m sorry.”

Oh.

So he doesn’t know the real reason. Thomas thinks he figured out what was haunting Alex’s brain that morning, but it wasn’t what he was actually thinking. Alexander can either accept the apology and pretend like that’s why he was upset, or he can finally buck up and tell Thomas that he’s jealous of James. His choice is common sense.

“It’s okay.” Alexander accepts the apology and watches Thomas's lips curve into a smile. 

Thomas reaches over to rest his hand on Alex’s thigh. It sends waves of _feelings_ through his stomach. “Forgive me?” Thomas asks with an impishly boyish grin.

Alexander scoots closer to him, letting his temple rest on Thomas’s shoulder. “Of course I do.” 

Like he had any other choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angelica's comment about how Thomas [and Eliza] would rather Alex write about the affair then him be accused of embezzling student gov't funds was taken from the actual "Observations on Certain Documents." (aka the Reynolds Pamphlet) - Alexander actually believed that Eliza and everyone else would be glad that he was having an affair instead of stealing money. Hamilton's words were- "But that bosom will approve, that even at so great an expence, I should effectually wipe away a more serious stain from a name, which it cherishes with no less elevation than tenderness." You tried, Ham, you tried. 
> 
> Up next: The Fight  
> (and a surprise character)


	11. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get the whole story, there's a fight, and also a special guest makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These. Boys. Need. To. Talk. 
> 
> (comments & kudos are appreciated more than you know)

Alexander stands in the mirror, his ink stained fingers slowly buttoning up his black waistcoat. He’s not wearing pants, the only clothes adorning his body are his grey boxers, white dress shirt, and now his waistcoat. He wishes he could be embarrassed about his lack of clothing, but he’s too stressed to think about it. They’ve got less than two hours before they’re supposed to leave to go to James Madison’s party. Thomas is behind him, one leg in his trousers, much like the other morning - and he’s doing this sort of hop thing to keep his balance while attempting to put his pants on. He is shirtless - his beautiful abs on display - with his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, and his hair tied back casually. Thomas steps into the bathroom, and Alex can hear the water running. 

Alexander sits on the bed, putting his socks on and smiling when Thomas emerges from the bathroom. His pants are fully on, but they’re unzipped and unbuttoned, and Alexander can see the top of his dark green boxers. “Can I ask you something?” Thomas asks, and Alexander has to drag his eyes away from the other man’s crotch, and  _ God  _ please don’t let Thomas have noticed. Thomas doesn’t say anything, though, but keeps looking at Alexander with questioning eyes. 

“Something tells me you’re going to ask even if I say no.” Alexander challenges, enjoying this familiar push and pull banter that they’ve shared since they first met. It’s comforting that even in the midst of their confusing relationship, they’ve kept this. 

“You know me so well, ‘Lex.” Thomas drawls, putting his hand across his bare chest in an obvious showcase of his dramatics. His accent makes the sentence drag on way longer than necessary, “Why in God’s name did you ever publish that post? The one ‘bout that Reynolds's girl.”

Alexander can’t help his wince. Talking about Maria and Eliza aren’t really on the list of things he wants to do with Thomas. His curiosity is peeked though, and he curses every ounce of inquisitiveness he has in his body because he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to talk about this. Not now, preferably not ever.“ What brought this up?” Alexander asks, dodging the question expertly. He learned the skills of evasion and redirection quite early in life, never wanting to spill his complicated upbringing to people who would pity him. 

“I don’t know what got me thinking about it. It just doesn’t make sense. You’re a smart guy though, and you obviously thought it would help. I just wanted to see if I could get the story, maybe the whole story?” Thomas says casually as he starts buttoning his dress shirt. He’s not looking at Alexander, instead he’s facing away and looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

“The whole story is pretty long.” Alexander admits, and in a way, he kind of wants to share the story. Something about Thomas makes Alexander feel safe, like the man can be trusted with the secrets he holds. The feelings surprise him, because he’s never felt this way about him before. 

Thomas chuckles, “It’s gonna take me at least another thirty minutes to finish getting ready.” 

And that’s all he really needs. 

“Well, the story starts a few days before Christmas break.” Alexander starts. 

_ “Angelica!” Eliza let out a loud laugh, running to meet her sister. Angelica had spent the past two months in England for an internship, and she was arriving home just in time for Christmas break.  _

_ “Eliza!” Angelica’s voice chimed like a thousand bells as she flung herself into Eliza’s open arms.  _

_ “My two favourite people.” Alexander murmured from his place by the bedroom door. Angelica’s eyes widened when she saw him, and she walked over to embrace him tightly. “Alexander.” _

_ “Hey,” He muttered lamely. Her smile only grew with his awkward acknowledgment.  _

_ “Angie, would you please tell Alex that he has to come with us? Everyone goes home on winter break, Alex, even John Adams.” _

_ “John Adams is always at home Eliza, you know he’s in Boston more than he’s here.” Alexander attempted to defend himself. He wanted to take a break, but Jefferson and Madison had been particularly inexorable in student gov’t, refusing to pass Alexander’s debt plan that would resolve the debt from the previous years. He could still hear their teacher adviser's voice - Washington’s - speaking grimly in his head, “Get the plan through, Alex, or I’m afraid you’ll be elected out of office.” _

_ He had to stay behind and try to figure out how to fix his plan.  _

_ “You’re not coming with us?”Angelica’s voice was doused heavily with surprise and thick with disappointment.  _

_ Alexander sighed, “I’m afraid I can’t.” _

_ “Alexander,” She chastised like an older sister, “I came all this way.” _

_ Eliza grabbed her sister’s arm and turned to face Alex, “She did come all this way.” _

_ “When will you ever take a break?” They both asked at the same time, sister intuition and all.  _

_ “I’m sorry. I have to get this plan passed.” He murmured, taking his hands from their grip and turning to head back into Eliza’s bedroom.  _

_ It was two days later, when Alexander had reached his breaking point. He was exhausted - hadn’t slept in three days - and running off coffee and his hatred for Jefferson. Jefferson had gone back to Virginia to stay with Madison over the break, which left Alexander alone in their dorm.  _

_ He was three paragraphs into a new section of his plan when there was a knock on his door. Exhausted, he stood and let his back crack unattractively.  _

_ “Yes?” Alexander greeted the young women at his door. She was wearing a tight red dress, the same red colour staining her lips, dark curls falling around her face.  _

_ “Alexander Hamilton?” She asked, voice sounding wrecked and bleeding of desperation.  _

_ He swallowed at the sound of his name on her tongue. Soft and gentle, with an undercurrent of despair. “That’s me. Can I help you?” _

_ The corners of her lips twitched, her frown deepening. “I’m sorry to bother you so late. I just-” She rubbed her hands across her face, “I live with my boyfriend off campus and he just kicked me out. You’re one of the only people that didn’t go home for break. I don’t know what to do.” _

_ Alexander’s mouth went dry, “Come in,” he motioned for her to enter the dorm, moving the pile of books from his chair onto Jefferson’s desk so she could sit.  _

_ “What’s your name?” He asked as he sat down on his bed, watching as she looked at him through thick lashes.  _

_ “Maria.” _

_ “I can give you some money, Maria. For a hotel, if that would help you?” Alexander offered. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do in this situation.  _

_ “Thank you, you’re a life saver.” She thanked him breathlessly.  _

_ “Why don’t I walk you to a hotel? There’s one a few blocks from here.” Alexander supplied, not finding it in himself to regret the words as he said them, even though he knows he should.  _

_ Maria sent him a startling white smile, and walked towards the door. He walked down the street with her, no words exchanged as they walked in the night. The moon was like a a crystal in the sky. He stood beside her as she paid for the hotel, and then walked her to her room.  _

_ They stepped inside the hotel room, and Alexander tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I should get going.” He said, looking around the room, purposely keeping his eyes off the king sized bed.  _

_ A scarlet flush bloomed across her cheekbones and Alexander froze. She sat down on the bed, her legs spreading a fraction of an inch, “Stay?” She asked, and Alexander watched her throat as she swallowed loudly.  _

_ “Hey,” He croaked breathlessly, unable to stop the events that were fastly approaching. God, she looked so helpless. Desperation evident in every fiber of her being.  _

_ “Hey.” She echoed his words, and Alexander - who lost every ounce of control he had - gripped her face and brought their lips together.  _

“Damn Alex,” Thomas says slowly from where he’s tying his black tie in front of the mirror, “I didn’t realize the whole story was going to include your erotica.” He teases, although Alexander thinks that there is something else in his voice. It sounds deeper, huskier even. Thomas lets out a loud, “That literally sounded like the beginning of a bad porn video. I might have actually watched one like that.” He jokes and Alexander smiles, thinking back to how uncomfortable some people became when reading his post. They said he practically wrote his own porn, “Are you going to let me finish or?” Alexander asks as he buttons up his trousers. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep going. Sounds like you’re about to get to the good part.”

“I had intended on ending the relationship, but even as I said that I continued to sleep with her.” Alexander starts once more, “I ended up getting a text from her boyfriend that said I had to pay him or he would tell Eliza. I, as you know, decided to pay him.”

_ “Jefferson. Madison. Burr.” Alexander greeted them in a monotone voice. The three of them had approached him in the library, looking completely conspicuous. Jefferson fluffed his obnoxious coat.  _

“I didn’t ‘fluff’ my coat, thank you very much. What the hell does that even mean? That’s not even a verb.” Thomas interrupts him. 

“Shut up, Thomas!”

_ “What’s going on?” Alexander asked, glancing up from his laptop. He was entirely too stressed to deal with this shit right at the moment.  _

_ “I found some papers on your desk,” Thomas starts, “checks to a mister James Reynolds.”  _

_ Alexander felt a wave of anxiousness run through him as he realized what they’d found.  _

_ “You’ve been embezzling from student government.” James added, like Alexander couldn’t read behind the God damn lines and figure out what he was being accused of.  _

_ “Do you have no morals?” Burr asked quietly, his voice a stark contrast from his words.  _

_ Alexander let out a cold laugh, “You don’t even know what it is you’re asking me to confess!” _

_ “Just admit it, Hamilton.” Jefferson hissed, words cold like ice and hollow.  _

_ “And if I can prove that I didn’t embezzle?”  _

_ He saw the triple look of surprise cross each one of their faces. _

_ “Then we wouldn’t have anything to tell.” Burr whispered, his face a perfect mass of neutrality. Bastard.  _

_ Alexander opened his phone, pulled open the messages from James Reynolds, and handed the phone to Burr.  _

_"You were having sex with his girlfriend?” Alexander watched as Burr’s face showed the shock he was feeling - for once. _

_ “What?!” Jefferson snapped, grabbing the phone from Burr and reading the message on the screen. He handed it to Madison, and his mouth fell open, “My God.” _

_ “So can you keep this to yourselves?” Alexander frowned, praying that they made good on their word.  _

_ “Thomas, Aaron, let’s go.” Madison said in that annoying ass monotone voice that drives Alex insane.  _

_ Alexander frowned, "So?" _

_ “This’ll stay between us.” Jefferson said as the three men exit the library.  _

“You can’t pin this all on us, you know.” Thomas says as he pulls his purple jacket over his shoulders, they’re both almost completely dressed, “You did pay a guy so you could have sex with his girlfriend.”

“Are you going to let me finish or not?” Alexander huffs, and when Thomas only rolls his eyes, he continues, “So I figured that that was the eye if the hurricane. Everything was calm for a second, and then it was going to get worse. So, I decided to step out in front of it. Tell the truth before you could tell the lie.”

_ He wished he could say that it took him a long time to write the post. That’d be a lie though, because it didn’t. He finished writing it in two days.  _

_ Alexander knew what the repercussions of posting the blog would be. He knew that Eliza would probably never forgive him, but to be accused of stealing money? And stealing money from an activity that Alexander cares so much about? _

_ He swallowed around the lump in his throat and looked at his laptop screen. It was pulled open to his latest draft of the paper.  _

_ Titled quite inconspicuously as, “Observations on Certain Documents.”  _

_ He didn’t have a choice. It was either everyone found out about his affair, or they learned of a nasty rumor that could stain his legacy for life. _

_ In that moment, Alexander knew it was the calm before the storm. He took a deep breath and pressed post.  _

“That pretty much sums it up.” Alexander says thoughtfully as Thomas ties his second shoe. 

He gets a small smile shot his way, before Thomas is standing and brushing down the lapels of his purple suit. He looks amazing, not that Alexander expected anything else. The light purple looks absolutely decadent on him, and pairs so nicely with Alexander’s own matching purple bow tie. 

“Let me guess what happened after that,” Thomas began, “Angelica roasted the shit out of you and then you spent the next mouth crying and eating ice cream with Laurens and Lafayette.”

Alexander takes a deep breath, “You know me too well.”

Thomas smiles at him in the mirror and Alexander is happy he chose to tell Thomas. He feels like there has been a weight lifted off his shoulder. “I also distinctly remember you staying in your bed for a week straight.”Thomas adds with a frown. 

Alexander raises his eyebrows at that, “Yeah me too.” he remembers Thomas dragging Madison in the room to try and convince Alex to get up. It didn’t work until Madison threatened to kick him out of student government. Even then, he only got up and went to John’s. 

“I think we look pretty good, don’t you?” Thomas asks him as they’re walking down the stairs, hand in hand. Madison’s party starts in an hour and Alexander can already feel his annoyance mounting and he hasn’t even seen James yet. 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever looked as good as us, Thomas.” Alexander smiles when he hears the resounding chuckle from the other party. He’s grown quite fond of that chuckle in the last week. 

Mary  and Jane both fawn over them and tell them how handsome they are, as Elizabeth stands behind the two of them resting against the doorjamb. Her lips are quirked into a little smile and slowly, as if unsure of the boundaries surrounding them, she steps forward to pull Alexander into a quick hug. She kisses his cheek and pulls back to turn to Thomas. 

He’s stunned for a second. In the whole week he’s been here, Elizabeth hasn’t showed him an ounce of anything other than mutual indifference. It strikes something deep within him, and Alexander feels a growing pressure behind his eyes. 

Mary snaps a quick picture of the two of them, and Jane straightens Alexander’s bow tie. It feels like they’re in high school again, getting ready to leave for prom. 

When he talks of what he’s going to miss about Virginia, he’s always forgotten one thing. Thomas’s family. They’ve all grown on him, each in their own ways, but equally. He enjoys Jane’s motherly affection, Mary’s hyperactive enthusiasm, Elizabeth’s quiet solace, John’s sincere observations, and Peter’s love for coffee. 

“Are you ready, love?” Thomas asks, the pet name making Alexander’s heart stutter even though he knows it’s only for show. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Montpelier is… breathtaking. Alexander gets some serious Monticello vibes from it, and he wonders if Madison and Thomas are so close that their houses are even similar. The thought makes him roll his eyes, but then he immediately chastises himself. He promised himself that there’s not going to be a jealousy problem like the rest of this stupid break. He has no reason to be jealous of Madison. No reason. 

They climb the steps and Thomas doesn’t bother knocking, instead he pushes open the door and steps inside with Alexander on his arm. Alex secretly hopes that maybe Madison will be so busy hosting that they won’t have to see him for awhile. 

The universe really must hate him, though, because the first person that greets them is the host himself, James Madison. 

“Jemmy, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. The place looks even more beautiful then when I left the other afternoon.” Thomas greets him, and somehow - as if by magic maybe - Thomas’s accent seems to grow thicker in the presence of another Virginian. 

“Thank you, Thomas.” James smiles and Alexander can barely restrain his wince because it looks so fake, “Alexander, I’m glad that you could make it as well.”

“Madison,” Alexander says in his politest tone ever. Thomas sends him a pleased look and Alexander wants to die a little. A waiter walks by with a silver tray of champagne flutes, Alexander grabs one and, without thinking, drains the entire glass in one gulp. 

He looks back to find James’ blank face and Thomas’s amused one staring back at him. “Well, James, I’ll let you get back to hosting. I’ll find you later.” Thomas insists with a nod of his head. 

James smiles again, tight lipped and Alexander resists the urge to scream, “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”

Alex rolls his eyes the second James steps away, and almost doesn’t catch the smirk Thomas flashes at him. “Be a good boy, Alexander.” Thomas purrs. 

Someone kill him now. 

They mosey around for awhile, Thomas introducing him to some pretty influential people. (John Hancock oh my God) Alexander is polite and even though politics are discussed, Alexander manages to control his temper and ends up having a delightful conversation with a girl named Dolley Payne. She’s beautiful and smart, and Alexander greatly enjoys her company. In a way, she reminds him of a less aggressive Angelica. 

It’s during his conversation with Dolley, that Thomas excuses himself for a moment. Alexander ends up getting so lost in the conversation - they start talking about equal pay for women -, that he doesn’t realize an hour has passed until Dolley mentions that she hasn’t seen Thomas or James in a while. 

Bile rises in his throat, and he gracefully exits the conversation - trying to maintain every connection he’s gained tonight. Dolley kisses him on the cheek, and says they’ll have to grab lunch sometime. 

He walks around the house for awhile, and after convincing himself that he was not looking for James and Thomas, Alexander follows the steps that lead upstairs. It’s as he’s rounding the corner that Alexander stops cold. 

There, sitting in front of a lit fireplace - in what Alexander assumes is James’ bedroom -, is Thomas and James. The position looks intimate, Thomas’s head resting on James’s shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t listen - he knows what they say about eavesdroppers - but he can’t help himself. It seems as though the conversation is wrapping up, because all Alexander hears is Thomas whisper, “I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad.” 

James wraps his arm around Thomas’s back, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I love you, you know that?” Thomas says and then Alexander hears James’s throaty chuckle and response, “It’s one of the few things I’m sure of.” and then, “I love you too.”

He stands there for a second, frozen to the spot. It’s when Thomas stands up that Alexander turns on his heels, taking the stairs two at a time and wishing he never came to fucking Virginia in the fist place. Fucking pricks. 

He ends up in a back corner - after stealing a bottle of champagne from a waitress - and buries his sorrow in alcohol. His heart feels like it’s shattered, and he’s having a hard time breathing. Seeing that  _ hurt _ . 

Thomas finds him in the corner, a few minutes later. He comes up to Alexander with a bright smile on his face, and if that doesn’t make everything worse. He looks so happy, and how can Alexander fault him for that? It’s not Thomas’s fault that he doesn’t like Alex. You can’t help who you get feelings for. Or who you don’t, for that matter. 

“Hey,” Thomas says, as he stands in front of him. His voice sounds light and carefree and Alexander scowls. 

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Thomas inquires with a frown. 

He doesn’t say a word, instead he opts to take another swig from the bottle. He’s too drunk to be anything but petty. 

“Alex.”

Alex doesn’t speak.

“What’s going on? Did something happen with Dolley?”

Not. A. Word. 

“You’re scaring me.” Thomas says and that’s what causes Alexander to snap.

He tosses the empty bottle onto the ground and stands up, pushing himself into Thomas’s personal space. 

“Like you care. Fuck. You.” He hisses, the words dripping deadly from his mouth, “Why the fuck did you even invite me to Virginia, huh?”

“Alexander,” Thomas says, his eyes wary, “What are you talking about?”

He tosses his head back, anger and jealousy mixing like fire and flooding through his veins, “Why’d you even invite me to be you’re fake boyfriend?” Alexander hisses, “Why do you need me when you have Madison?”

“Alex.” Thomas tries again - his hands up like he’s trying to placate a scared animal - but Alexander can’t stop the words that flow from his mouth, “Why don’t you leave me alone and go back to fucking Madison.” He regrets the words the second they come out of his mouth. The lack of filter is another reason Alexander doesn’t go drinking. 

Like the other day, Alexander can see the armor slam up into place. The gates get locked and Thomas’s eyes become glassy. He becomes emotionless in a second, and his posture is so tense Alexander thinks he might snap. Everything about him changes so quick. His emotional barricades putting piles between the two. His face is impossible to read and Alexander doesn’t know what to say. There’s so many things he wants Thomas to know, but there’s too many walls between them to get through.

Alexander’s too drunk and fed up to think properly. “Fuck this.” He announces, grabbing his coat - which he shedded sometime through the night - and marching towards the door. 

He walks out without a look back. 

Alexander ends up at a bar a few miles down the road from Madison’s house. He grabs one of the stools by the bar and orders a couple shots of tequila. He throws them back, one after another. The alcohol hurts like a bitch, but Alexander knows he deserves it. He can’t help but wonder if it doesn’t hurt enough. 

Why is it that he can never shut his mouth? He was on the defensive, and as everyone knows, Alexander on the defensive is somehow worse than Alexander on the offensive. He can’t figure out how everything went to shit so fast. One minute they were fine, and the next Thomas is cold and distant, and Alexander’s slamming the door shut on his way out of Madison’s house. 

He slams the last shot down and casts his glance around the bar. By Alexander’s standards, it’s pretty nice. His eyes get caught on the jukebox in the back - something Lafayette would be particularly fond of if he ever visited the place. He looks at the room, and it’s surprisingly standard. The lights low, 80’s rock and roll on the jukebox, old men in their 40’s roaming around, a few by the bar downing beers, professor Washington laughing in the corner. 

Wait what?

Alexander’s head snaps back to the direction he was looking. There, in all his handsome glory, looking as casual as Alexander’s ever seen him - wearing jeans and a button down with his sleeves rolled up, expensive Rolex on his wrist glistening in the light - is Alexander’s history professor. 

He’d almost forgotten that James and Thomas weren’t the only two people he knew that lived in Virginia.

It’s the second that Alexander sees him that Washington starts making his way towards the bar. Alex doesn’t think that Washington’s spotted him yet, and it’s confirmed when Washington sits a few stools down from him and smiles at the bartender. 

God, the universe really fucking hates him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my boy Washington is here to make everything better. (And look super hot when doing it)   
> Also Alex should know by now that he needs to hear the whole conversation before he starts making assumptions. 
> 
>  
> 
> Up Next: The Professor


	12. The Professor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has a thing for Washington, and he's still confused about how he feels about Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that I'll post until I get back! I should arrive back on June 26, but then it might take me a few days to get the next chapter edited and posted. 
> 
> I love you all so much, you don't even know! I'm so anxious about this trip, so please drop your thoughts or questions below and it'll distract me from the anxiety that threatens to overtake my body. :) 
> 
> Until I get back, enjoy this bittersweet chapter ending. <3

“Whiskey neat.” Washington drawls slowly, his accent much heavier than Alexander’s used to. Maybe it’s because he’s not putting up a cold exterior for his class, or maybe it’s the Virginian air. Alexander’s noticed that in the time they’ve been in Virginia, Thomas’s accent has become much thicker. It seems that when ever Virginians are in the presence of other Virginians, their accents become almost painstakingly southern. Alexander’s heart constricts at the thought.

Thomas.

Alexander flinches. God, why did he have to have such a big fucking mouth? Why couldn’t he have just pretended like he didn’t see anything? Does Thomas even know why he was so upset? Sure, Alexander said that James and Thomas were fucking, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that Thomas knows why Alexander thought that. That Thomas know that Alex is jealous.

He drains the rest of his glass and motions to the bartender for another. It’s his… fifth shot? Sixth maybe? He lost track after the third. Alexander watches as Washington readjusts his body gracefully and Alex has to wonder how the man hasn’t noticed him yet. He looks mouthwatering good in this new casual attire. He’s a good look on him, and in this moment, Alexander can’t blame Lafayette for his attraction to the older man. He’s got so much confidence radiating from his body that Alexander feels strangely turned on just looking at him. Confidence is a thing for Alex. He looks so fucking hot.

Alexander sighs loudly, and watches as Washington glances over at him before looking back down at his glass. It’s a second later that recognition must hit him, because he looks back up quickly. Washington’s normally stoic face is etched with confusion as he stares at Alexander. He takes a slow sip from his glass - face in a mask of concentration - before sliding over to sit on the stool next to Alexander.

“Alexander,” Washington greets him, the lines in his face even more prominent up close. His face has become relaxed, his stoic expression returning as he speaks, “What are doing in Virginia?” Washington arches one of his eyebrows, the only thing on his face that betrays his curiosity.

Alexander can’t help the snort that escapes his body; he’s two drinks too many to give a damn about what Washington thinks, “That’s actually a pretty funny story.” He takes another sip from his glass, “I’m here with my boyfriend.”

It’s as he speaks that Washington’s face changes again. His confusion is - once again - quite evident. The lines in his forehead crease thickly and he glances away from the drunk man for a second before speaking, “What’s Lafayette doing in Virginia?”

“Who said anything about Lafayette?”

Washington looks like he’s two seconds away from throttling Alexander for being purposely vague and difficult. His brows are furrowed in agitation, and when he speaks his voice is controlled and clear, as if he’s speaking to a child. “You said you were in Virginia with your boyfriend.”

“I’m not dating Lafayette,” He frowns as he finishes his glass, “Maybe I should date him. We’d be good together, you know? We could be… uncomplicated together. He is very charming, huh? Not to mention that’s he’s one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen, and he’s _packing_ if you know what I mean.” He drunkenly babbles, his filter - or lack of - doesn’t seem to realize that he just told his _history professor_ that Lafayette has a big dick. It’s as Alexander comes to this realization that he remembers the reason he couldn’t date Lafayette even if he wanted to, and that reason happened to be siting right in front of him, “But I can’t date him, his heart is, uh, off the market.”

Washington’s eyebrow arches again, and Alexander drunkenly wonders if this is the most Washington has ever let his emotions play out across his face. Is it that Alexander’s drunk enough to notice? Or is it that Washington’s lowered his emotional walls because of Alexander’s current state of intoxication? “If you're not dating Lafayette, then who are dating?”

“Thomas Jefferson.”

He thinks he hears Washington choke on his drink, which, if he’s being honest, wouldn’t be that far of a stretch. He has been the adviser that’s witnessed every one if their arguments. If Washington was confused before, he must be completely lost by now. His face stares blankly back at Alexander, as if he doesn’t quite believe him. Not like Alexander would believe it if someone told him two months ago that he’d be dating Thomas, fake or not.

“We’re not really dating, Wash.” Alexander slurs - attempting to placate his teacher before Washington does something crazy - like has a heart attack, “We’re fake dating so that Tommy’s family won’t make ‘im move back to the South.” He frowns again, “Well, it’s suppose to be fake dating, but I think I’m actually starting to like him.” Alexander feels like throwing up the second the words leave his mouth. For a moment, he wishes he wasn’t drunk so that he could actually talk this out with Washington. The guy seems like he could help Alexander sort through the tangled thoughts at the top of the pile that hides away in the back of his head.

“And how does Thomas feel about this?” Washington asks slowly, like he’s still struggling to grapple with the situation, _you and me both, Wash._

“Sometimes I think that he thinks it’s all fake. Like the kisses are all fake and that I’m just in this for the money.”

“The money?” Washington interjects.

“Shh,” He slurs, putting his hand on the top of Washington’s, which rests on the bar, “Thomas is paying me to be his fake boyfriend. But then sometimes I feel like Thomas actually likes me back, you know? Like maybe he knows that I’m not faking all these feelings and that I want to kiss his dumb face and hold his hand, you know?” Alexander lets out a loud and overly dramatic sigh, “Maybe I’m just being oblivious. Do you think I’m being oblivious, Wash?”

Washington takes a sip from his glass and rubs his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose most people are oblivious to the feelings of others. Mostly romantic feelings and especially if they’re the person the feelings are directed at.”

“You would know.” Alexander mutters as he rolls his eyes. If he was oblivious, then Washington must be blind.

Washington’s face pulls into yet another frown, “I’m sorry?”

“You should be sorry.” Alexander lectures him. He’s trying to take the moral high ground here, but it’s not as convincing as he wants - mostly because he’s almost falling off his stool because of the amount of alcohol that’s in his blood. “Poor Lafayette’s been helplessly pinning after you since fucking freshman year and you still haven’t noticed.”

He vaguely feels as though he shouldn’t have said that, but the alcohol has impaired whatever tiny brain to mouth filter he usual has. Washington’s eyebrows shoot to the top of his forehead. He looks like he’s got a million questions on the tip of his tongue, and Alexander’s ready to answer them all. That is until he literally does fall out of his seat, only to be caught by Washington’s quick arms. Alexander lets his hands feel up the strong muscles in his his professor's arm with a sly grin on his face. Washington doesn’t say anything about Alexander’s groping, instead he helps Alexander get back onto his chair, and then keeps a strong arm wrapped around him as he pays for both of their tabs.

“Let’s get you out of here, son.” Washington murmurs softly, and Alexander’s struck by an overwhelming surge of affection for his professor. He’s always admired the man, always had extreme respect for him as a teacher and a person, but this is different. This man, who’s knowledge on almost every subject is so vast that he could teach every history class at Columbia if he wanted too, is helping Alexander get back home after he got smashed. It takes a special kind of guy to have all the traits that Washington possesses, and still be the kind of guy who helps the drunk kid get home at night.

Alexander wraps his arm around Washington’s broad shoulder and lets the older man practically drag him to his car. They sit in quiet, as Alexander tries his best not to throw up on the nice leather seats. Washington leans over to grab the seat belt and pull it across Alexander’s lap. It’s when he does this, that Alexander gets a large whiff of his cologne. “You smell good, Wash.” He sighs, and his sober self is so going to regret this evening in it’s entirety. Washington gives him a small smile but doesn’t comment. Fat rain drops fall on the window and lightening cracks across the sky; the resounding reverberations booming through the sky.

“So if you’re here with Thomas, what are you doing getting drunk at a bar?” Washington asks, and then a second later, “You want me to drop you off at Monticello?”

For a second he thinks about saying no. Thinks about begging Washington to take him back to Mount Vernon. Thinks about seducing Washington and finally getting to see what he looks like underneath those expensive suits that probably cost more than Alexander’s college tuition. Alex doubts that Thomas will let him sleep in his room tonight and, at the very least, this way he won’t be alone during the storm.

He couldn’t go to Mount Vernon though, for a lot of reasons. The first being is that he could never do that to Lafayette. Although, he thinks the Frenchman would be more envious than angry. The second reason is that Alexander’s got all these emotions involving Thomas and meaningless sex with his professor wouldn’t help that.“Yeah Monticello,” He mutters, “and I was at a bar getting incredibly wasted because of James fucking Madison.”

Washington makes a sharp curve and Alexander’s stomach twists. “James Madison?”

“We were at his party tonight, Thomas and I were. Thomas was looking good, like damn he was got. His thighs looked good and, God, don’t get me started on his as-”

“The point, Alexander.” Washington interrupts him, and there’s another crack of thunder.

“Right, the point.” Alexander starts, trying to get his mind to focus. This is one of the reasons he hates being drunk. It slows down his thought process and makes him feel as though he doesn’t have a good grasp on the situation. Like he couldn’t take care of himself if he needed too. Like the hurricane.

“The point is,” Alexander continues in his lawyer voice, “James Madison is a dick and he’s trying to steal my boyfriend.”

“Your fake boyfriend.” Washington adds, not helpfully. “Why do you think he’s trying to steal Jefferson?”

“You don’t understand. James is just, always there. He’s just touching Thomas and laughing at his stupid jokes.” Alexander grumbles, much like a child.

He stares out the window and tries not to think about how bad his head is going to hurt in the morning.

“Listen, son.” Washington begins, and Alexander doesn’t have the energy to snap at the name, “Madison has always been there for Jefferson. They grew up together, went to the city together. You can’t expect all that to change because you’re fake dating Thomas.”

“But Madison doesn’t know it's fake!”

Washington’s mouth gasps just an inch - just enough that Alexander wouldn’t have noticed if his eyes weren’t looking at his lips, “He doesn’t know that you’re not really dating?”

“Nope.” Alexander pops the “p” sound harshly.

“Why wouldn’t Jefferson tell him?”

Alexander rolls his eyes, “You think Thomas tells me shit?”

Washington sighs, and Alex can only guess that he’s tired of getting half assed responses. He, instead, turns his focus on the road in front of them. Alexander’s eyes grow wary and he struggles to keep them open. Washington’s leather seats are so comfortable that he sinks down into them and gives in to the urge to close his eyes. He rests his head against his professor's arm and puts his trust in Washington to get him back to Monticello in one piece.

It seems as though the second he closes his eyes, Washington’s large hands are resting on his arm and shaking him awake. “Alex.” Washington’s voice sounds like it’s inches away, and he can feel the warm breath against his cheek. “Alexander.” Washington’s deep voice harps again, and Alex lets out a yawn.

“Huh?” He blinks open, taking in his surroundings. He’s still in Washington’s nice car, and they’re siting in the driveway at Monticello. Oh. The rain is softer now on the window shield, but lightening still streaks across the sky.

He looks down at his rumpled suit and wonders how the evening turned sour so quickly. Alexander yawns again, barely stiffing it behind his sleeve. He knows he needs to get out of the car, needs to go inside and see Thomas, but he’s not sure what he’s going to say to him.

Doesn’t know how he’s going to apologize.

“Thanks Wash.” Alexander murmurs as he opens the car door. He freezes when he feels the man’s arm reach out and grab his wrist.

“Lafayette,” Washington starts slowly and Alexander turns to face him.

“What about him?”

Washington looks at him for a second before shaking his head - seemingly dismissing the idea, “Nothing.” he seems to close the subject. “Get some rest, son.  I’ll see you back in New York.”

Alexander lets a small smile flirt across his face, “Night, your excellency.”

He climbs out of the car and shuts the door, only turning around for a second to see the smile on Washington’s face because of the name.

Alexander takes a deep breath and pulls his jacket closer around his chest. He watches as Washington’s car pulls out of the driveway and waits until he can no longer see it before turning back to face the house again. Without another excuse, Alexander begins walking towards the door, the raindrops sprinkling his jacket.

He climbs the steps, opening the door and thanking every Deity he’s heard of that it’s unlocked, he really doesn’t want to stand in the rain for the rest of the night.The majority of the lights are off, and Alexander’s pretty sure that’s his que to sleep on the couch. Thomas is most likely asleep, and he doubts that Thomas is going to want to cuddle with him after Alex accused him of having sex with Madison anyway. He slips off his jacket, folds it to the best of his ability, and sits it down on the love seat.

He remembers Washington’s warning about getting sleep and makes his way to the kitchen to grab some Advil and a glass of water. It’s when he enters the kitchen, that he realizes Thomas isn’t in bed. Instead, he’s sitting at the bar in a pair of black sweatpants with his arms crossed, facing away from Alexander. There’s a mostly empty bottle of wine in front of him, and he stares at it,  body unmoving. Alex sees a flash of lightening in the kitchen window, and then he hears the crack of thunder.

Alexander steps further into the kitchen and wrings his hands together. He’s far too drunk to appropriately deal with both his and Thomas’s feelings, and from the looks of it, Thomas isn’t much better off.

“A-hem,” He coughs like the fucking coward he is.

Thomas whips around to face Alexander. The second he does, Alexander feels like utter shit. Thomas looks like a mess. His hair is in disarray, and he looks exhausted. His eyes are rimmed in a deep red and Alexander can tell that he’s drunk. He looks like shit, and Alexander knows that he himself doesn’t look much better.

Thomas slides off the stool and begins walking towards Alexander. He flinches and prepares to get punched or hit or something. Instead, Thomas just stops in front of him and stares at him.

“I’m so sorr-” His words are interrupted by Thomas pulling him into a hug. The Virginian wraps his arms around Alexander tightly, and rests his face in the crook of Alexander’s neck. He returns the hug, letting his arms grip Thomas’s body tightly. He’s too drunk to try and explain what he’s feeling, but maybe this can be the first step. Alexander can feel Thomas’s breath on his neck and he shivers.

“I was so worried.” Thomas says quietly, the words barely audible because of Alexander’s skin that’s blocking his words. “We were fine and then you were mad, and then you were yelling at me, and saying I was fucking James, and I was so confused. I didn’t know what I did wrong and then I got defensive and then you left. I thought you would just come back here, so I left early, but you weren’t here. You weren’t here. I thought that something had happened to you, that you were hurt or something.” Thomas confesses into his neck, and Alexander’s guilt grows thick.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, “I ended up in some bar and I caught a ride home with Washington.”

Thomas pulls back to look at Alex, “Washington?” He asks.

Alexander can only nod because he’s so distracted by the emotion evident in Thomas’s eyes.

“Alex, what happened. What’d I do wrong?” Thomas asks him, his voice sounding strained and too tight. It makes Alexander’s heart ache, because he didn’t do anything wrong. It was just Alex’s own insecurities that screwed things up.

“I was jealous.” Alexander admits. He doesn’t think that Thomas will remember this conversation in the morning, but he figures that Thomas’s drunk self deserves this much, “I was jealous of Madison.”

Thomas pulls Alexander back into his arms and threads his fingers through Alexander’s hair. “Why would you be jealous of Jemmy?”

Alexander just shrugs. Even drunk, he still doesn’t have the courage to admit everything he’s thinking, everything he’s feelings. He knows that Thomas won’t remember this, though, so he decides to show some vulnerability, “You guys are really close.”

“Trust me, you have absolutely no reason to be jealous of him.”

Thomas walks away for a moment, and Alexander immediately misses the warmth that he provided.

“Take these, and drink this.” Thomas tells him with a sigh, handing over two small white pills and a bottle of water. He obeys and then Thomas grab his arm and pull him upstairs.

So much for having to sleep on the couch.

Thomas leaves him and goes to the bathroom, and Alexander takes the moment to change into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. He walks over to the window and stares outside. There’s a sharp crack of thunder and Alex flinches.

“You okay?” Thomas asks as he comes back out of the restroom.

Alexander shrugs and tucks a piece of loose hair behind his ear, “I don’t like storms.” Thomas raises one of his eyebrows and Alex feels the need to elaborate, “There was a hurricane when I was a child.” He shrugs again, hoping that it comes off as inconsequential.

Thomas pulls Alexander into his arms. “Oh, well I’ve got you.” He holds Alex against his chest, “Let’s get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

They climb into the bed together, pulling the heavy comforter up over their bodies. Alexander takes his rightful spot in Thomas’s arms and closes his eyes.

There’s another clap of thunder and Alexander tenses. “Shh,” Thomas curls closer, molding his body around Alexander’s. “It’s alright, baby.” Thomas tucks his face in the crook of Alexander’s neck and threads his fingers through Alex’s. Normally, Thomas body covering Alex’s might make him feel claustrophobic, but right now he just feels safe, warm and safe.

“Goodnight, Alexander.” Thomas says, wrapping his body tighter around Alexander. He holds him, and Alexander feels his eyes grow tired. The moment is fleeting and Alexander has twenty things he wants to say to Thomas, twenty more he wants to do. Instead, he snuggles closer to Thomas, squeezes the Virginian’s hand in his own, and whispers back, “Goodnight Thomas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you blame Alex for wanting to have sex with Wash? I can't. I mean have you seen Chris Jackson's arms?
> 
> Up next: The Talk


	13. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they don't actually seem to resolve anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mess and I apologize if it makes no sense. I'm exhausted and posting this right now because I stayed up to watch Lin on Seth Meyers. 
> 
> On a side note, I'm going to be going back and editing the chapters I've already posted. There wont be any major changes, but I thought I'd mention it just in case.

Alexander blinks open his eyes, “Fuck.” he hisses as his head is assaulted by an excruciating pain. He feels an overwhelming agony course through his brain - particularly concentrated on the right side of his head at the moment - and he lays still for a moment. This is yet another reason he doesn’t drink.

He can’t quite remember where he’s at or how he got here. Squeezing his eyes shut, Alexander sits up from the bed and holds his fingers against his temples. The pain is a dull pounding, now located just above his ears and targeting the space behind his eyes. An intense wave of nausea halts his motions, and he has to concentrate all his will power on not throwing up.

After regaining himself - and his stomach - Alexander opens his eyes again, blinking owlishly as his eyes take in his surroundings. He can’t help the sigh of relief he lets out when he realizes he’s in Thomas’s room. He’s woken up in random beds from one night stands too many times.

He casts his gaze over to the other side of the bed, a frown forming on his face when he sees that it’s empty. Alex presses his hand against the sheets, and his frown deepens when he feels that they’re cold. His brain immediately goes to the worst case scenario- Thomas figured out that Alexander has _a thing_ for him and freaked out. He doesn’t remember much of last night, come to think of it, he doesn’t remember most of last night. Alexander knows that he probably did something really stupid. He probably wasn’t very subtle either. That tends to happen quite often when he’s drunk; another reason he normally doesn’t drink.

Alexander stares out the window and watches as an onslaught of raindrops fall onto the glass.

It's nice that the weather, for once, seems the match his mood. It's cloudy outside; the sky a threatening dark grey colour. He fears that the anxiety from the weather will come later, when he's not so confused and not in so much pain.

His confusion is perhaps the worst part. Alexander doesn't like not knowing. Closing his eye, he decides to start at the beginning of the night and maybe he'll retrieve some of his memories along the way. He remembers getting dressed, taking pictures, talking to Dolley. He remembers seeing James and Thomas talking in James’s bedroom - and for some reason the thought of the two of them doesn’t anger him like it normally does. He just feels resigned. The following memories play out in his head and Alexander cringes when he remembers yelling at Thomas. His eyes widen because oh my God did he really accuse Thomas of having sex with James? Why can’t he keep his drunk mouth closed? Maybe Alex should start listening to Burr’s advice, “Talk less, smile more," because it doesn’t seem like talking has ever done him any good.

He lets his head fall back into the pillow and groans. Damn it. How in the hell can he get himself out of this? Damage control only does so much, and it’s not like he can pretend it didn’t happen - which is his go to form of salvaging. Thomas has to have figured out how he feels now, it’s not like he could have been any more obvious. Now that he’s thinking about it, he sounded like a jealous teenage girl last night.

He needs to figure out what the fuck he’s thinking if he ever wants to be satisfied. That thought brings back memories from the day after he posted the Reynolds's post.

_Alexander sat at his desk, head in his hands and his elbows balanced on his thighs. It had been a whole day since he posted that blog, and he had yet to hear from Eliza. Not even six hours after he posted it, had it made it’s way across campus. He had received plenty of text messages from people baffled by his “idiocy”, and a particularly scathing one from Jefferson._

_He couldn’t regret his actions though. There was no denial, anger, bargaining, or depression. There was only acceptance. Alexander couldn’t go back in time and not post it, just like he couldn’t go back in time and turn down Maria._

_He had done what he needed to do; he had saved his legacy. To some it seemed like the stupidest thing he could have done, but Alexander had his reasons, misguided as they might have been._

_His dorm room opened, the sound interrupting his inner monologue. He figured it was Jefferson back early to gloat, but was surprised when he saw a burst of coral entering his room._

_“Angelica.” He greeted her with a relieved sigh. She knew him, she was like him, she would understand him. “Thank God, someone who understands me.”_

_Alexander reached out to take her hand, but she ripped her arm away with such ferocity that he flinched. “I’m not here for you.” She said, words like steel. “I know Eliza more than I know myself. There will never be anyone as kind or as trusting. I love her more than anything, and I will choose her happiness and life over mine- every damn time. Forget about what we had, Alexander, I’m here for her. I knew it from the moment I met you,” She breathed, “you will never be satisfied.”_

For the umpteenth time in his life, Alexander can’t help but wonder if she was right.

That train of thought brings him full circle to Thomas. If it wasn’t obvious to Alex before, it is now. His feelings towards Thomas surpass what’s considered platonic. He’s not sure exactly what he’s feeling - it’s hard to put a label on something so new. The whole thing is so confusing though. Alex knows he feels _something_ for his fake boyfriend, which in itself is problematic.

It’s problematic because he’s in love with Eliza. It’s problematic because he’s trying to win her back.

It’s confusing. This _thing_ that he feels for Thomas is beautiful. It make his heart flutter with warmth when their lips touch, and it makes his stomach tense with nerves and excitement. It makes him feel like he’s back on St. Croix, shakily kissing his first boyfriend. It’s soft and new and so achingly beautiful.

But what about Eliza?

What about his sweet, warm, **good** Eliza? The best thing that’s happened to him. She’s been his rock for the majority of their college career.

When he first arrived in this country, he was alone. No family, no friends, no one to share his dreams and fears with. No one to help tell his legacy. Then he met John; beautiful, focused, kind. John wasn’t a rock though, Alexander thinks of him as more of a sunset. Beautiful, relaxing, nice to look at, but also fleeting. His thing with John was here one moment (one intense, breathtaking moment) and then it was gone the next.

Eliza though, she had embraced him the moment they met. Quickly, she had become the most important person in his life. Even now, after everything that’s happened, she is the most important person he has. He had clung to her desperately and with great fear. He didn’t cling to her wealth or beauty but to her. Her kind heart, gentle touch, and intelligence.

His sweet Eliza. He failed her. He’s failed her so many times, too many times. He can’t do it again.

But God, Thomas. The last person on Earth Alexander ever thought he’d have these conflicting thoughts about. He had hated Thomas back in New York, but this trip has opened his mind. Now instead of a his nasty smirk, Alexander sees a lovely smile that melts his heart. Instead of a horrible personality that makes Alex flinch, he sees a man with a good heart. A man who is generous, caring, and kind.

He really does like Thomas- he craves him even. But at the same time, he loves Eliza.

To top it all off, that’s not even the most complicated part about this trip. Whatever he’s feeling for Thomas isn’t only problematic, but it’s really fucking inconvenient. If the moment comes and he _chooses_ (is that the word he’s looking for?) Thomas, then he creates a whole new problem for himself. Alexander in good conscience, can’t date Thomas with the whole money issue involved. Alex can’t use Thomas. He can’t expect the Virginian to give him six thousand dollars for fake dating him over spring break, if they’re _actually_ dating by the time it’s over. Not that Thomas would want to date him, or that he’d want to date Thomas for that matter. This is all hypothetical reasoning, of course.

He groans again, and then regrets it immediately when his forehead throbs particularly hard. Alexander drops his head on the pillow, and lets out a groan of self pity. How has his life become a soap opera in a little over a week?

“I’d give you a lecture about drinking responsibly, but I think that’d be a little hypocritical all things considering.” Thomas says softly, and Alexander peeks up from the pillow.

Thomas is standing by the door frame and he looks as hungover as Alex feels. His hair is pulled into a bun at the back of his head, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks absolutely gorgeous though. Breathtaking even. “I can’t remember a thing from last night.” Alexander moans as Thomas comes over to sit beside him. The Virginian’s face remains impassive as he hands Alex two ibuprofen and a glass of water.

“Neither can I.” Thomas admits, his eyes purposely downcast. Alexander  - for some reason - feels guilty, and reaches out to put his hand over Thomas’s. Thomas looks up at him, eyes wide and searching. Alexander lets his eyes flicker down to Thomas’s lips, and watches silently as the man’s white teeth dig into his bottom lip. Alexander glances back down at their conjoined hands and his eyes land on Thomas’s watch. It triggers the resurfacing of a memory from last night.

_There, in all his handsome glory, looking as casual as Alexander’s ever seen him - wearing jeans and a button up, expensive Rolex on his wrist glistening in the light - is Alexander’s history professor._

“Oh my God!” Alexander cries as he remembers a similar watch from last night. “Oh God.” Mortification spreads like wildfire across his cheeks as the memories from the bar last night flash into his mind. Seeing Washington. Flirting with Washington. Considering having sex with Washington, _his professor._ And even worse- telling Washington about Lafayette.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas whispers, reaching over to tuck a piece of Alexander’s hair behind his ear. He wants to punch himself in the face. Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to tell Washington anything that he did? Alexander is pretty sure his professor has better things to do than tell everyone about Alex fake dating Thomas, but why did he have to tell him about Laf?

Fuck.

“I told Washington last night.” Alexander states, his skin tingling where Thomas’s fingers had brushed against him. Thomas’s brow furrows in confusion, “You told him what?”

“I told him that Lafayette’s in love with him.”

Thomas’s jaw drops open a half of an inch. He opens his mouth, as if to speak, and then closes it again. His lips curve into a frown and he looks away. “I suppose it’s about time Washington found out.”

Alexander sighs, “I should tell Lafayette, so he knows the expect it.” He feels like the shittiest friend to walk the planet. Lafayette wasn’t subtle, but if Alex had to guess - he assumes Lafayette didn’t want Washington to find out due to Alexander’s drunken ramblings.

Thomas turns around to reach for something on the dresser before facing Alexander again. He hands him a small rectangle object, “Here.”

“Your phone?” Alexander asks, looking down at Thomas’s phone in his hands. He feels as though the hangover is slowing his brain power and he’s not catching on.

Thomas shrugs, “Your phone’s still downstairs, so you can text him off mine.”

Alexander smiles at him, “Okay what’s your password?” He says, looking down at the background. It’s a photo of Thomas and Elizabeth standing in front of the Eiffel tower. Thomas looks dashing in a brown suit, and Elizabeth is wearing a white knee length dress.

“1790,”

Alexander glances up, a smirk spreads across his face. He raises an eyebrow as he types in the password. “Seriously?”

“It’s purely coincidental.” Thomas stresses seriously, his eyebrows furrowing as he purposely looks away from Alexander’s stare.

“So it has nothing to due with the fact that 1790’s when Jefferson became Secretary of State?” Alexander says, and smiles when Thomas’s cheeks flush.

His obsession with history is really charming- cute even. It’s just another thing that they have in common.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.” Alexander smiles up at him, and laughs out right when Thomas rolls his eyes. He catches himself staring at Thomas for a second too long, before he forces his eyes away and back to the phone.

He types out the message before hitting send.

_To Lafayette: Please call me when you get a chance - A. Ham_

Alex figures it’s a conversation that’s better had on the phone. He closes out of the messages app and looks up at Thomas with a grin, “Can I snoop through your phone?”

Thomas narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m just curious.”

Thomas licks his lips, eyes focusing on the phone in Alexander’s hand. He looks like he’s concentrating, and Alex assumes he’s running through a mental checklist in his head. Probably trying to remember if there’s anything on his phone that he doesn’t want Alex to find, “Can I see it for a second?”

Alexander hands it over, and Thomas quickly begins tapping and scrolling on the keyboard, “I get it. You’ve gotta delete your nudes and clear your search history.” Thomas glances up at him before looking back down. Alexander continues, with a smile “I don’t judge, you know. In fact, I would love to see what kind of porn the great Thomas Jefferson watches.” He all but purrs.

It doesn’t get the reaction he was expecting because Thomas doesn’t flush or look embarrassed, he just smiles and hands the phone back to Alex, “Here. Do your worst.”

Alexander accepts the phone with glee, and quickly pulls open Safari. He clicks the history tab, and to his surprise, it appears as though Thomas hasn’t deleted his history.

“You didn’t delete your history?”

“I have nothing to hide.” Thomas smirks happily as he lays back on the bed. He grabs a book off the nightstand and opens it. Alexander stares at him for a moment, and he has to wonder why Thomas wanted to get his phone back before Alex looked through it. He hums distractedly and begins scrolling through the history links.

There doesn’t seem to be anything too interesting. A few google searches about the Constitution, an online order of his cologne, and a list of reviews for a select brand of XL condoms. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from grinning.

After finding nothing good for blackmail, Alexander closes out of the history tab and goes to the bookmarks. It seems pretty normal for a college kid’s bookmarks. National Master, Netflix, National Archives, and Pornhub. Alexander smirks at the last one, but decides not to let his imagination roam. He clicks out of Safari and opens Thomas’s messages.

He scrolls through the contact names: _Lafayette_ , _Fucking Hamilton_ , _Angel(ica),_ and _James_.

Alexander quickly changes his name to: _The Greatest Boyfriend Ever_ followed by a string of annoyingly long emojis hearts.

He then opens the messages with James and scrolls to the top. Unsurprisingly, there doesn’t seem to be very many. That must have been what Thomas wanted to delete. A message from last night catches Alexander’s eye, and he concludes that Thomas must have missed that one when he went through and deleted them.

_From James: Please just trust me. It’s obvious, Thomas. You’d have to be blind to miss it._

He exits out of the messages before opening Angelica’s. He snorts when he realizes that the messages are just a bunch of memes.

He closes out of Thomas’s messages and opens his pictures. There’s a couple of memes that make him smile, a picture from before they left last night that Mary must have taken, a screenshot of the Bill of Rights, a few pictures of poplars, and _oh God._

His finger freezes over the picture preview. Alexander glances up to find Thomas reading his book, completely oblivious to Alex’s internal conflict.

Thomas did say to do his worst.

He clicks on the picture and his breath gets pulled from his lungs. It’s a mirror picture that makes his mouth dry.

It’s a gorgeous photo, displaying Thomas’s prominent chest muscles, and all the way down to his sharp hipbones. He - unfortunately - can’t see anything lower, but it doesn’t look like he’s wearing anything else. He scrolls to the next picture and decides Thomas must be trying to kill him. It’s a picture of Thomas waist down in his bed. He’s wearing a pair of tight grey sweatpants that contrast against the bleach white sheets. Alex can see the bottom of Thomas’s abs and tries to regulate his breathing. He keeps scrolling, looking at a few gorgeous selfies and then his fingers pause. It’s a picture of Thomas and him curled up in bed together. Thomas isn’t looking at the camera as he takes the picture, instead his eyes are focused on Alex. Alexander is mid yawn, eyes narrowed at the camera. Alexander vaguely remembers taking the picture the night they got back from their date. Alex just didn’t know that Thomas had kept it. He hadn't expected him to.

He exits out of the photos as quickly as he can.

Alexander sneakily opens the Instagram app, and uploads the picture Mary took of them last night. He captioned it with, “Alexander’s always looked better than me. I can only just now admit it.” and tags himself in it. 

He lets out a loud yawn, tossing the phone on the bed and standing up. He’s had to pee since he woke up and the old alcohol taste in his mouth is becoming unbearable.

Alexander makes his way to the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

“Did you enjoy your snooping?” Thomas asks when he returns, breath minty fresh and bladder relieved. Thomas is sitting at the edge of the bed, book abandoned, and his feet brushing the ground.

Alexander walks over so that he’s standing in front of Thomas. He smiles when he has to look down to make eye contact with his fake boyfriend.

“I thoroughly enjoyed the shirtless pictures.” Alexander winks at him, feeling satisfied when Thomas drops eye contact in favour of looking at the floor.

“Can I say something?” Thomas starts after a minute, “You might not want to talk about it, but I need to get this off my chest.”

Alexander raises his eyebrow and nods. He’s not quite sure what Thomas wants to talk about. His memories from last night are still pretty foggy, but he has a feeling it’s got something to do with that. He crosses his fingers and prays that Thomas doesn’t bring up the comment about James Madison. That comment alone is going to be the one that damns him.

“I’m sorry.” Thomas mumbles and _oh_ that’s not what Alexander was expecting.

He furrows his brow in confusion, “What?” He doesn’t understand why Thomas is the one apologizing.

Thomas reaches out to pull Alexander’s hand into his, “Last night. I know you were mad because I ditched you. I went to talk to James and left you alone with people that you didn’t know. You were my date and I ditched you, that was shitty and you were right to be upset.”

Once again, Thomas believes he’s figured out the mystery that is _why Alexander does what he does_ and once again, Alexander’s going to let him believe it. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s not like Alex even knows why he does what he does.

It’s something that people always ask. _Why would you fight Seabury? Why would you write the Reynolds Post? Why do you do this? Why do you do that?_ When his fight or flight response kicks in, Alexander makes the best decision he can with the information he has. But sometimes, he doesn’t even know why he chooses what he chooses.

“Yeah, that’s why I was upset.” Alexander bites his lip through the lie, “What all do you remember from last night?”

Thomas smiles up at him; his dark eyes shining, “Everything up to getting back to the house. I was sober when I left, but I had a bottle of wine when I got back and everything’s kind of black after that. What about you?”

Alexander sighs in relief when he realizes that Thomas probably doesn’t remember his declaration of jealousy. Thank God, he can’t imagine how difficult it would be to work his damage control on that.

“I remember the fight, and then going to the bar and seeing Washington. I vaguely remember hitting on him, but that might just be my imagination. I remember getting into his car - and oh God I told him he smelt good.” Alexander covers his face as he laughs. Going back to school was going to be so awkward, “I fell asleep in the car and that’s about the last thing I remember.” He lies flawlessly. If there’s one thing he’s going to get down after this break, it’s going to be the art of lying. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I was drunk and blew things out of proportion.”

“Okay, so we both remember almost nothing and we’re both sorry.” Thomas says with a small smile, “Let’s go downstairs and eat. I owe you breakfast.” He makes to stand up from where he’s sitting on the bed, but Alex interrupts him.

“Wait.” Alexander says, his words soft and gentle, almost vulnerable.  
  
“What?” Thomas asks, his eyes clear when he looks up at Alexander. There’s still tension in the air, most likely because of yesterday’s events.  
  
Alexander bites his bottom lip, watching in fascination when Thomas’s eyes follow the movement. “We’re okay, right?” He whispers, eyes unable to look away from the man in front of him. He needs to know that after everything that happened last night they really are okay, that Thomas isn’t putting up this facade just because he needs Alex to keep pretending to be his boyfriend.  
  
“We’re great,” Thomas sighs, and Alexander watches his throat as he swallows loudly.  
  
His skin is tingling, itching for a touch. Alex wants to reach out, but at the same time he’s afraid. Afraid of what it means for him, for them, for Eliza.  
  
Thomas reaches out - as if he can read Alex’s mind - to grab his hand, pulling harshly so that Alexander falls forward. His breath catches when he stabilizes himself and realizes how close they are. He’s not even trying to be subtle about his staring, his eyes are completely drawn to Thomas’s lips, and God does he want to kiss him.  
  
He leans forward, achingly slow, so that their faces are brought closer together. He can feel Thomas’s warm breath on his face, and with a burst of courage, Alexander makes the leap. He presses his lips against Thomas’s and holds them there, basking in the feeling for a second. Alex pulls away a fraction, so that he can see Thomas’s eyes. Sensing no discomfort or reluctance, he leans back in to connect their lips.  
  
Unlike the previous kiss, this one is more passionate. He can taste the desperation on Thomas’s lips as they drag against his own. Thomas’s mouth is warm against his, a delightful heat that Alexander seeks out with added intensity. He pours himself into the kiss, every doubt, struggle, ounce of reluctancy that has plagued him on this trip. He traces his complicated feelings on Thomas’s lips with his tongue, and at once there are no thoughts of Eliza. For this moment, there is only Thomas and Alexander. He can worry about what this means later. In this moment, all he wants to do is keep the space between them nonexistent. 

Thomas breaks away a minute later to smile up at Alex breathlessly. The beauty of his smile makes Alex's heart stutter in his chest just a little. “Come on. I seriously owe you breakfast.”

Alexander laughs, grabbing Thomas’s hand and letting the man pull him towards the door. He hears a roll of thunder and turns around quickly to watch the rain fall onto the windowsill.

A second later, Thomas is wrapping a comforting arm around Alex’s waist and pecking him gently on the lips. He smiles happily against Thomas’s lips before breaking away and whispering, “Let’s go, I’m starving.” and then ushering the Virginian out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Realization
> 
> Come say hi on my [tumblr](https://willieverbesatisfied.tumblr.com/)


	14. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time jump, a rainstorm, and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Independence Day if you're American. If not, then happy Tuesday!
> 
> A warning for this chapter: I tried to make the tour as accurate as possible, but it's been years since I last visited Monticello, and the internet can only help so much. Forgive me for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> THERE'S A TIME JUMP OF ABOUT A WEEK. Nothing happened except Alex drank his coffee and was confused about his feelings. That means the boys have about a week left before they head back to New York.

Alexander groans, allowing himself to curl closer to the warm body next to him. He is immensely comfortable; the Egyptian sheets are soft against his skin, and the man next to him is the equivalent of a heated body pillow. Thomas’s arm is wrapped snugly around his waist, and it serves as an anchor to keep Alex pulled back against Thomas’s defined chest. He can feel the chiseled muscles through Thomas’s tee shirt. Alexander hums softly, a yawn tugging at his lips, and  digs his fingers into the soft mattress.

From midst his half conscious state, Alexander begins to register the staccato vibrations of his phone. He knows he should answer it - it could be something important - but he's much too comfortable to move. Alexander ignores the vibrations and cuddles further back into Thomas’s embrace. He lets sleep pull him back under and goes willingly.

When he breaks the surface of sleep again, Alexander is feeling much more awake. He mumbles something incoherent as he attempts to rub the sleep from his eyes. He blindly reaches towards the bedside table, hand brushing against the cool metal of his phone.

He wraps his fingers around the phone, pulling it up to his face. Alexander clicks the home button, the screen lighting up and shining too brightly into his eyes.

_1 missed call from John_

He fumbles with the phone, attempting to punch in his password, and eventually ends up calling his friend back. He holds the phone up to his ear and smiles softly when the motion makes Thomas curls closer around his body. He yawns loudly, the motion rocking his entire body.

“Good morning, baby,” John greets him, tacking on the pet name.

Alexander snorts into the phone, “Not your baby, John.” He sighs sleepily, “Why’d you call?”

“You’ll always be my baby,” John says into the phone, his voice falsely indignant, “I just wanted to check on you and see how things are going.”

He looks over his shoulder to stare at Thomas. It’s unfair how good the man looks in his sleep. “Things are okay.” He begins, not quite sure how to summarize his confusing thoughts into a coherent sentence, “Although, I’m beginning to wonder if this was a bad idea.”

“I could have told you from the moment that you left that this was a terrible idea. I am curious as to why you’re just now starting to wonder this?” Laurens murmurs into the phone.

Alex lets out a sigh, and Thomas’s arm tightens around his waist. The Virginian nuzzles his nose against the back of Alexander’s neck and a series of goosebumps race across the surface of his skin. Alexander double checks that the man is still asleep, and then voices the overwhelming concerns he has to his friend, “I just feel like I’m in over my head.” He begins, “I came here expecting to suffer through three weeks of Jefferson, but now I’m- now I don’t even know. I’m enjoying myself. I like Virginia, I like his family, I like-” Alex huffs,  “I have these… _feelings_ for him. I don’t know what they are, but they’re there, John.”

John’s quiet for a moment, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I thought you were still in love with Eliza?”

“I am!” Alexander snaps, his voice too loud in the silence of the room. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and then continues, quieter this time, so that he doesn’t wake the sleeping man next to him, “That’s the whole fucking point, John! How can I be feeling things for Thomas if I still love her? Is this possible?”

“I don’t know, but it’s obviously possible because it’s happening to you. Did you call Angelica?”

Alexander pushes a few stray hairs out of his eyes before responding, “I did. She’s supposed to be trying to convince Eliza to call me.”

“Can you do me a favour?” John asks him, his voice confident through the phone, “Just- stop thinking for a bit, okay? You always overthink everything, and it always ends up doing you a lot less good than you think. Listen Alex, you’ve got a week left so just enjoy it. You can figure out how you feel about Eliza when you get back. Just relax and use this break to your benefit. You deserve a break.”

“Yeah, John, I can do that.” Alexander agrees, although he’s relatively sure he won’t be able to keep his side of the agreement. It’s not like he chooses to overthink things.

He can here John’s smile through the phone, and he’s suddenly aware of how much he truly misses his friends. “I miss you. I miss looking at your ass.” John teases him and Alexander smiles into the phone, “Not as much as I miss you, but I’ve got a new ass to keep me company.”

“Fuck off,” John snickers into the phone, and Alexander wishes he could see him. Wishes he could see the wide, showing all his teeth, smile that John probably has at this moment.

“Gladly.” Alexander sighs and Thomas begins to move behind him again. Alex figures he should wrap this conversation up before he wakes, “Hey, I’ve got to go, John. I love you.”

“Love you more, babygirl.”

He hangs up and turns around to look at Thomas. Thomas is still asleep and he looks so peaceful, all the lines of frustration and worry erased from his face. Alexander bites his lip and glances away from the sleeping man. He feels fifty shades of freaky staring at Thomas when he’s sleeping. It’s weird to stare at someone when they’re asleep, right? Right. He rolls onto his back and stares morosely at the ceiling.

John told him not to think too much, and while he knows the man has a point - and overthinking really hasn’t done him anything good before- he can’t help it. He’s still stuck trying to figure out how he feels about Thomas, all while attempting to not infringe upon this delicate situation he has with Eliza.

He decides that in order to figure out what he’s feeling, and what he wants to do about those feelings, Alexander needs to finish sorting through the continuously growing pile of thoughts in the back of his head- the one he’s been actively avoiding since he arrived.

It’s a big pile and as much as Alexander hates to admit it, he’s been avoiding “taking out the garbage” for too long. It’s a long overdue task.

He starts by splitting the metaphorical stack of thoughts into two categories: _Love Life_ and _Other_ . He dismisses all thoughts from _Other_ , because they have no direct consequences at the moment. The category of _Love Life_ takes precedence because it includes the majority of his conflicting thoughts. That category is split into two sub categories, so that he can manage the individual thoughts more appropriately. He splits it into: _Eliza_ and _Thomas_.

Eliza’s category includes all things relating to their relationship. The memories he can’t help but dwell on, the Reynolds’s post, Angelica, and whether or not he wants to get back with her.

Thomas’s includes whatever remaining thoughts he has. The thoughts about what he’s feelings, James Madison, why is he so weirdly jealous all of a sudden, can he really date Thomas if the man is going to be paying him, and the biggest question of all - does he even want to date Thomas?

Since Eliza’s category is mostly compiled of painful memories, Alex decides to venture through that one first. The only real question that he finds regarding Eliza, is whether or not he wants to get back with her. It seems as though the answer is obvious: Yes. He loves her with every ounce of his being, misses her every hour of every day. The only complications that arise are when he factors in Thomas. That’s a different category, though, so he dismisses the thoughts and decides that yes, he does want to date Eliza.

That was simple. Next category: Thomas.

He doesn’t know what he feels for Thomas, and Alex doesn’t think dragging it up again is going to solve anything. He skips that one and moves along. Why is he so jealous of James Madison? The answer is blatantly staring him in the face. Alex likes Thomas and he’s simply jealous of the relationship that exists between them. Check.  The next one; a more complicated one: Can he date Thomas because of the whole money issue?

In theory, yes he can, but Alexander has a little bit of a conscience and he doesn’t know if he could actually do that. It seems morally wrong to fuck Thomas over like that, even if they made an agreement. Shit. Does this void their contract? Is emotional attachment cause for a void contract? Fuck, he didn’t even think about having this put in the writing, not that he could have expected to have these feelings.

Alex feels agitation growing hot in his veins, and decides that he’ll add this back to the pile. Now, for the tricky one, does he want to date Thomas?

His first instinct is to say yes, but he can’t date them both. Technically he could, but Alex is pretty sure Eliza wouldn’t be interested in a polyamorous relationship with Alex and the man he used to hate. What it comes down to is the fact that Alexander is going to have to choose. He has to choose between the girl he loves - the girl he’s loved for years - and the man he doesn’t know how to feel about. It seems like an obvious choice. He should choice Eliza, but there’s that voice in the back of his head that tells him he wants to pick Thomas.

He’s pretty sure this is why John didn’t want him to overthink all of this. He sighs deeply and throws his feet over the side of the bed. Alexander swaps his pants for a pair of jeans and an old tee shirt and then stalks downstairs in search of something to eat.

He enters the kitchen and pours himself a mug full of steaming coffee and then makes his way towards the living room. It seems as though everyone is still asleep, except for Peter, who is silently watching cartoons on the television as he shovels cinnamon toast crunch into his mouth.

“Hey Alex.” Peter greets him with a mouth full of cereal.

Alexander takes the spot next to him and sits his mug down on the table, “Hey. What are you watching?”

“Not sure, I just flicked through the channels till I found one.”

Alex nods, leaning back on the couch and turning his brain off to mindlessly watch the show. He thinks that John would be proud.

It’s an hour, maybe two, later when the rest of the Jeffersons seem to sprawl awake from the night. Mary is the first person who makes her way into the living room. She looks incredibly put together, especially considering Alex is pretty sure she just woke up. Mary crosses the room in three long strides and curls up next to Alexander on the couch. She rests her head on Alex’s shoulder and draws her feet up to her chest.

“What’s up?” He murmurs, turning his head to look at her. Her makeup look nice, a light shade of purple smudged across her eyelid. Her eyelashes are inky and fan across her sparkling cheekbones.

“I’m tired Alex.” She groans and closes her eyes.

Thomas comes down the steps a minute later in dark wash jeans and a grey sweater. His glasses are perched across his nose and he looks fucking adorable.

Thomas stalks over to stand in front of them and reaches down to grab Alex’s hand. He gives the hand a gentle tug and Alexander stands up to greet his boyfriend with a kiss.

Compared to their other kisses, this one is relatively chaste but it still manages to make Alex’s heart ache. He presses into it, lips scraping against Thomas’s. He holds off on breaking the kiss for as long as possible, but eventually the need to breath overrules the need to feel Thomas’s lips against his, and Alexander pulls away.

He steps back, eyes wide and mouth parted. He’ll never get over how good it feels to kiss him. Thomas smiles at him, and with the raise of his eyebrow, skirts around him and sits down in Alexander’s seat.

“What the fuck?” Alex huffs with a laugh, fake glaring at the man sitting. “Guess I’ll just have to find a new seat.” Alexander turns, plopping down unceremoniously onto Thomas’s lap. He hears a sharp intake of breath and for a second, he’s worried that he might have elbowed Thomas in the groin. He dismisses that a moment later Thomas hold a hand to his chest and laughs. “I think you almost gave me a heart attack.” The Virginian says, his voice suddenly sounding deeper and huskier.

Alexander just grins at him, sliding backwards until he’s comfortably sitting on the other man’s lap.“You, Alexander Hamilton, are going to be the death of me.” Thomas sighs as he wraps his arms tighter around Alexander’s waist.

The sentiment goes both ways.

Jane joins them lastly and takes the spot next to Elizabeth on the love seat. She passes around baked croissants and Alex hums as he breaks apart the buttery pastry and devours it. Who knew mental labour could be so exhausting?

“So what’s your boy’s plans for today?” Jane asks once everyone is finished with their breakfast and sit quietly, sipping their cooling coffee.

Alexander has no idea so he casts a curious eyebrow to Thomas, “I was thinking about giving Alex a tour of the gardens.” He says, “We’ve been here for two weeks and I haven’t got the chance.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea, Thomas.” Her face clouds a fraction, “You know it’s supposed to rain soon, right?”

Thomas pats Alex’s thighs and he gets the hint. Alexander stands from the couch and turns to face his fake boyfriend, “We should probably get going then, shouldn’t we?” Thomas says with a grin as he offers Alex his arm.

Alexander grabs Thomas’s hand the second they step outside the house. He intertwines their fingers and lets out a loud yawn.

“Did you sleep alright?” Thomas inquires gently, his palm squeezing Alexander’s. He slept fine last night, and he’s slept amazingly this entire trip. In fact, Alexander is pretty sure that he’s slept more, and better, this trip than he has in his entire life.

“I slept great.” Alexander says with a smile, looking down at the dirt path, “Where are we going?”

“We’ll start with the West lawn,” Thomas replies, tugging Alex down the path. “And end with my favourite place.”

He figures that Thomas wants “His Favourite Place” to remain a secret, so he doesn’t ask. Instead he focuses on the air buzzing around them and smiles. They followed the walkway for a few more minutes, walking around the loop at the front of the house. The sides of the walkway are blooming with a variety of different coloured flowers. It’s a beautiful sight: the sun shining down brightly, the flowers shaking with each brush of wind. Alex stops, bending down to gently caress the petals of a flower with his fingers. “What are these flowers?” He asks as the red petals slip through his fingertips.

“Those are tulips.” Thomas says, crouching down next to him, “they tend to dominate the flower border this time of year.” They continue their leisurely stroll around the path until they eventually end up back at the doors of Monticello.

The sky is turning darker with each step they take, “Let’s go see the fruit gardens.” Thomas suggests with a smile.

The fruit gardens are _breathtaking_. Thomas points out the two main orchards and Alexander coos in delight. “Here we have apples, cherries, peaches. My personal favourite is the Spitzenburg apple.” Thomas gestures to one of the trees, “But I’m also particularly fond of Albemarle Pippin.” Alexander laughs softly. Who would have thought he’d be talking to Thomas about what kind of apples he likes?

He walks around underneath the trees, watching the branches shake gently in the wind.

“We also do some experimental fruits. We tried plums a couple of summers ago,” Thomas tsks, “Did not work out great.” He points off to the side, “That’s one of the vineyards over there.”

“ _One_ of the vineyards?” Alexander asks with a silent hum.

Thomas tugs him along, “We have two.”

Alexander is struck by the amount of food that is grown at Monticello. There’s fruit and vegetable gardens, two whole vineyards. He can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have grown up on this estate. Thomas probably never went to bed with his stomach growling, and his mother probably never had to sush his silent pleas for food because there just wasn’t food to eat.

He swallows harshly. Alex can’t help but wonder. When he was back on St Croix, pockets empty and well on his way to starving to death, was Thomas here? Was he lounging in the shade beneath the trees, eating freshly grown food, and practicing his violin? When Alex was trading sugar cane and alcohol just to survive, what was Thomas doing?

“You alright?” Thomas bumps him with his shoulder.

Alexander glances up at him with a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got lost in my head. Is this your favourite thing? You seem quite passionate about the plants.”

“I do enjoy the fruit gardens, but this isn’t my favourite place. That’s next.” Thomas explains, “The grove.”

They continue down the path and Thomas points out a few other plants that Alexander stares at. He’s intrigued by Thomas’s knowledge of the plants on the estate, not that he should be surprised. He’s always known Thomas was intelligent, it’s just refreshing to see his intelligence aimed at something other than beating Alex in debate.

Alex breaths in deeply, fresh air flooding his lungs. The air smells sweeter here. Like flowers, freshly mowed grass, and that _before it storms_ smell. He likes the air here in Virginia, and Alexander knows that it’s just another thing that he’s going to miss.

He glances up at the clouds behind them and frowns in apprehension. They’re turning even darker than before, dark grey cumulonimbus clouds rolling low in the sky. He feels something like panic shoot through his body at the sight. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck begin to stand up and he cringes.

“It’s only supposed to be rain,” Thomas says comfortingly, “Nothing else.”

Alexander looks up at him, hoping his gratitude can be seen through his eyes. Thomas smiles at him kindly, tightening the grasp on his fingers, and Alexander knows that he understands. He turns his attention away from the worry and focuses on the path they’re taking. He listens to the soft breeze in his ears, and the crunch of the dirt underneath their shoes.

“What do you think?” Thomas asks, and Alexander looks up from the path. In front of them is what Alex assumes is the grove. It’s beautiful; tall trees towering over them. He closes his eyes and listens to the wind blow through the trees, shuffling the leaves and rattling the branches.

“It’s beautiful.” Alexander states, his eyes roaming over the area in front of them. He’s not lying, not trying to twist the truth to spare Thomas’s feelings - the man obviously feels quite fondly towards the area - Alexander truly thinks that the sight in front of him is breathtaking.

“At one time we had more than one hundred and fifty different species of trees.” Thomas explains, “This one’s a red cedar, as is that one.” He pointed to two large trees, “and that one over there is a sugar maple.”

“And my favourites are over there.” Thomas says as he points to two trees that lie adjacent to the house, “Tulip Poplars. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Alexander glances over at the trees, and then casts his gaze back to Thomas. “They are.”

He focuses on Thomas, whose attention seems to be caught on the Poplars. He’s looking at them fondly and with a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s remember a time from long ago.

“The Poplar is the tallest hardwood species of the eastern North American forest.” Thomas begins to explain the trees to Alexander, and as much as he wants to pay attention, he’s distracted. He’s distracted by Thomas.

The Virginian is facing away from Alexander - eyes on the trees - and gesturing with his hands as he talks. At one point, Thomas must have said something amusing because a soft smile broke across his face. Alexander stares at the man, entrapped by his beauty, grace, and knowledge. Thomas glances over his shoulder to look at Alexander, and their eyes meet. And that’s when Alexander knows. The moment their eyes meet, Alexander knows for sure.

He’s in love with Thomas Jefferson.

_He_ is in love with Thomas Jefferson. The feeling from before that he couldn’t place? It is love. He’s in love with _Thomas Jefferson._

Alexander expects the panic to flood his body, expects anxiety to sit in his stomach, expects bile to rise in his throat at the realization. He expects to be scared.

But Thomas is still looking at him, eyes cast over his shoulder and a gently smile on his face. He stares at the Virginian in front of him, and Alexander finds that he’s not scared. He is just in love.

The panic and confusion will surely come later but in this moment, with Thomas’s kind eyes on him, all Alexander feels is relief.

As if the Gods had sensed his sudden realization and the relief flooding his bodies, the heavens open up and release their deluge onto the Earth.

Rain begins to fall from the sky, and in an instance Alexander’s hair is wet and clinging uncomfortably to his neck. “Oh my God.” He laughs, still distracted by the realization that he _loves Thomas_ and reaches out to grab the Virginian’s hand. The rain begins to come down even harder, splashing their clothes and covering their bodies with water.

“Come on,” Thomas says over the sound of the wind, pulling Alexander after him. They run towards the house, feet splashing in the mud that was once a dirt trail. Alexander hastily tries to wipe the rain from his eyes with one hand all while trying to avoid the ever growing puddles of water. Suddenly, Thomas is tugging his arm to the right and they duck underneath one of the large Poplars that he had pointed out earlier.

The tree’s leaves protect them from the majority of the rain, but a steady stream of water still manages to reach them. It’s manageable though, and much better than the buckets of rain that were being dumped on them earlier.

“Holy shit.” Alexander laughs as he wrings the water from his hair. Water drips methodically onto the ground, making little dents in the soft dirt when it lands.

“I can honestly say that I was not expecting that.” Thomas breathes, brushing the drenched curls from his face.

Alexander stares up into the eyes of the man he’s in love with and smiles. “Neither was I.” He surveys the damage of his clothing - completely soaked - and thanks the universe that he left his phone in Thomas’s room.

Thomas’s eyes drop down to Alex’s lips and he feels his smile grow wider. “It wasn’t such a bad thing, though, was it?” Alexander asks cheekily, “We are alone now, and in close quarters.”

“And my family is watching.” Thomas adds on, and Alexander goes to look at the house, but then Thomas is brushing his fingers across Alex’s jaw and he freezes. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the touch. Alexander feels his smirk widen, “Well then.” and then he’s leaning up to connect their lips in a kiss.

He knows that it’s no different than the rest of their kisses, but it feels so much different, so much better. Alexander reaches up and tangles his fingers in the wet curls that frame his fake boyfriend’s face and groans into the kiss. He presses himself closer, eliminating the space between them and smiling against Thomas’s lips. Thomas’s fingers run up the sides of his body, fingers dipping into the back pockets of his pants and then using that grip for leverage to pull Alex closer to him.  
  
He goes willingly, flinging himself into Thomas’s arms and pressing desperately into the kiss. Thomas hums against his lips before breaking away, and letting his mouth leave a trail of hot kisses down Alex’s neck. It makes his knees weak, the feeling of Thomas’s mouth hot against his too cold skin. His body heaves with each breath that attempts to fill his lungs because it’s too much, but at the same time it’s not enough.

Alexander surges back to kiss Thomas again, their lips gliding together, and their teeth scraping lips. It’s overwhelming and oh so beautiful. He hums into the kiss, delighted with the little moan that leaves Thomas’s mouth when he does so.

Eventually, Alexander breaks away from the kiss to smile up at Thomas. He watches as the other man smiles back down with warmth and happiness radiating in his eyes. “I think we should make a break for it.” Thomas says, as he grabs Alex’s hand and interlocks their fingers, and then Thomas is pulling him out into the rain before Alexander can fully comprehend the sentence. The rain re-soaks their clothes immediately, and they both let out loud laughs as they run towards the house, mud flying as their feet stomp on the path.

The entire time, all Alexander can wonder is how he didn’t know it was love sooner. A smile breaks across his face at the thought.

He’s in love with Thomas Jefferson, and for some reason, that thought still isn’t as scary as he had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Call


	15. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A BBQ, a nap, and a lot of feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I really hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think. 
> 
> Warning: There's a flashback here that features a little John Laurens/Alexander Hamilton, just so you know

Alexander had expected his sudden revelation from the other day to change everything. He had expected it to change his perception, change the way he looked at Thomas, and maybe - in some weird turn of events - change Thomas’s perception of him. 

It didn’t though.

Things are exactly like they were before, and Alexander isn’t quite sure how he feels about that. Wait, actually he is. The truth is, he fucking hates it. 

Now, whenever he grabs Thomas’s hand, Alex feels white hot spikes of longing course through his body. He feels butterflies sit low in his stomach, fluttering their long wings whenever Thomas looks at him. The worst of all, Alexander thinks, his whenever they kiss. 

The kisses are amazing, of course they are, but the whole time Alexander is acutely focused on his own body. He’s focused on making sure he doesn’t do anything that would give him away. That he doesn’t do anything that could show Thomas that he’s in love with him. 

He has yet to decide when he wants to tell him, and Alex isn’t quite sure that he’s ever going to tell him. Keeping this secret to himself could be beneficial. It could erase several of the problems that Alex is having. 

  1. If he keeps this secret to himself, then Alexander won’t have to choose between Thomas and Eliza.



Throughout these weeks, all Alexander could think of is Eliza. Now, all he can think about is Eliza  _ and  _ Thomas. If it comes down to Alexander having to choose, well he doesn’t know who he’d pick. If he never tells Thomas, he’ll inadvertently be choosing Eliza, but he wouldn’t have to deal with confessing his feelings. Which brings him to the second problem. 

  1. If he doesn’t tell Thomas, he won’t be able to get rejected.



Sure, that means he’ll never truly know how Thomas feels about him, although he’s pretty sure Thomas still sees him as a nuisance, but this way he wont have to experience the humiliation of being rejected by the Virginian.

  1. If Thomas doesn’t know, they can’t date and then Alex doesn’t have to choose between Thomas and the tuition money.



But there are, of course, cons to not telling him as well.  He supposes he’s making this much more difficult then it needs to be. If John were here, he’d tell him that all Alex needs to decide is if he wants to be with Eliza or Thomas. Everything else can be figured out later. 

He could be happy with her. Her gentleness, her kindness, her trustworthiness. They could be good again, and it would be like sophomore year all over again. He can be happy, but would he be satisfied?

He could be happy with her, but could Thomas make him happier?

“What are you thinking about?” Thomas asks him, nudging their feet together softly under the table. The entire family is on the West lawn, sitting at a large outdoor patio dinning table. John had pulled out the grill earlier and declared that he and Elizabeth were going to be preparing lunch for everyone. 

Alexander swirls his glass of sweet tea (God, two weeks in and he’s drinking  _ sweet tea _ ) and smiles, “I was just thinking about how I’m actually enjoying myself here.”

Thomas does one of those half laugh-half scoffs and scoots closer, “Did you really think you’d be miserable the whole time?” 

Alexander makes sure that no one else is paying attention to their conversation before he answers, “I didn’t know what to expect.” He chuckles, “You literally told me nothing. All I knew was that I was going to spent three weeks in  _ Virginia _ with the man I hated and his family.” 

“Hated?” Thomas asks with a raised eyebrow and Alexander’s gaze snaps down to his hands. He hadn’t meant to use the past tense, although he knows it’s true. He doesn’t hate Thomas anymore, and he’s pretty sure Thomas doesn’t hate him either. However, he doesn’t want to discuss this with Thomas because it’s bound to open a conversation that he hasn’t decided he wants to have yet. 

“Burgers are almost done, y’all.” John says from behind the grill and Alexander uses this as his excuse for escape. 

He stands from his chair, “I’ve gotta-” He motions lamely towards the grill with a pained expression on his face. 

Thomas doesn’t seem mad at Alex’s quick escape, instead his lips spread into a pleased close lipped smile and he rolls his eyes fondly. A feeling of giddy happiness courses through his body and Alexander’s breath catches in his throat. He’s happy. He’s so fucking happy. 

“Yo, Alex!” John Bowling shouts from his place by the grill. He waves Alexander over with the pair of tongs that is in his hand. 

Alexander walks over, “What’s up?” He asks, plucking a red pepper off the grill and dropping it into his mouth. It’s hot, not spicy hot but temperature wise it scorches his tongue. 

“Did something happen between you and Thomas?” John has a knowing look on his face, and that rush of giddiness from before rushes back and he lets out a childlike giggle. 

Alexander wrings his hands together and hopes he’s not blushing as much as he thinks he is, “I figured out that I’m in love with him, if that’s what you mean.” 

“It’s about time,” John murmurs, a smile spreading across his face, “Are you guys actually dating now?”

“Not exactly.” Alexander begins, looking over his shoulder at Thomas. He’s playing on his phone, occasionally glancing up to insert his input in Mary, Elizabeth, and Jane’s conversation. Alexander is once again caught up in how beautiful the man is. “I haven’t told him yet; I don’t know if I’m going to. I can’t get rejected and then go back to being his roommate.”

John’s brow furrows, “You’ve got so much to learn, Alexander.” He shakes his head, and flips a burger on the grill. Alexander wants to ask him to explain, to elaborate, but then Thomas is coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist. He rests his chin on Alexander’s shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

Thomas hands him a glass plate, and then Alexander let’s Elizabeth pile on the food. He requests a cheeseburger, and then she adds a scoop of baked mac and cheese (Alex smirks at Thomas), cooked greens, potato salad, and a corn cob. Seems like an appropriate southern meal. He takes his plate to the table and sits down in his previous seat. Thomas refills his glass with sweet tea and Alexander digs into his food. He’s starving, probably because he forgot to eat last night and this morning. 

Thomas gives him a stern look, and Alexander knows he wasn’t as subtle in his forgotten meals as he had thought. Wonderful, the only thing he loves more than Thomas is the man’s lectures about forgetting to eat, Alex thinks sarcastically. 

He relaxes, forcing his body to eat slower. Alexander takes his time and, for once, enjoys the food and doesn’t just scarf it down. 

“You know, I never got the story about the first time you two met.” Jane says and the tone in her voice tells Alexander that he’s not going to get away from this without telling the story. He thinks about making up some ridiculously romantic story about how they fell in love on sight, but this is Thomas’s family. They know him, they know how fucking awkward the guy can get in romantic situations. He’ll never forget when Lafayette drunkenly told him the story about Thomas breaking his wrist trying to impress a girl. They also know how stubborn he is, so Alexander decides he’s going to go with the original story. Not every love story starts off perfectly anyways. 

“Fair enough,” Alexander laughs, “A warning, though, we didn’t get along very well at the beginning.” 

Thomas snorts, “That’s an understatement.” 

Alexander smiles at him, “So, the story starts on the first day of freshman year…”

_ Alexander slide his key into the dorm room door and unlocked it. He pulled the door open and stepped inside. Excitement rushed through his veins as he took in the room. One of the beds in the room was already covered with several suitcases and he smiled at the thought of getting to meet his roommate. _

_ Alexander pulled his suitcase in behind him, lifting it with effort and placing it on the open bed. He’s a little embarrassed about the lack of items he brought, but the money from back home covered his tuition not clothes for him to wear. Alex can only hope that his roommate is kind enough not to point it out. Thomas Stevens had helped him out graciously, as had Edward, and he owed the majority of the clothes in his suitcase to the both of them.  _

_ He didn’t need fancy clothes and money. He had the things that would get him far in life: his intelligence, his gut intuition, and his passion. Alexander smiled as he unzipped his suitcase and begin pulling the articles of clothing out. He packed them into the free drawers and made a mental note to pick up a few more cheap pairs of jeans.  _

_ Alexander checked the pamphlet they gave him with his key and figured he might as well get to freshman orientation early. He might be able to meet a few people, and maybe he could finally be able to introduce himself to Aaron Burr.  _

_ Two and a half hours later and Alexander was crammed into a small booth at The Revolutionary Bar with his new friends. He had introduced himself to Aaron Burr (wasn’t impressed by him at all) and then he had been introduced to John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and Lafayette. The three of them immediately asked Alex to join them in their booth, and he was quick to accept the offer. Alexander had only known the three men for an hour and yet he felt such an unmistakable brotherhood with them.  _

_ “So how’s your roommate, Alex?” John had asked him. Alexander shrugged as he stole a sip from the man’s Sam Adams, “I haven’t met him yet. He wasn’t in the room when I got there.” _

_ “Well if y’all don’t get along, my apartment has an extra bed. You can crash with me any night.” John said with a barely recognizable Southern accent, a boyishly cute smile spreading across his face.  _

_ Alexander grinned, “What? Can’t I just share your bed?” _

_ He watched in delight as a red flush spread across John’s cheeks. There was something so charming about the man, Alexander just couldn’t place it.  _

_ “What are we going to do with these two?” Hercules said fondly, rolling his eyes and looking at Lafayette. The other man just smiled, and tucked a long strand of John’s curls behind his ears.  _

_ “Mon petit lion seems to flirt with everything that walks, non?” Lafayette murmured with a laugh, “Dear Hammie, what’s your room number? Perhaps I’ve spoken with the person who shares your dorm.” _

_ “Laf is friends with everyone.” John said, and Hercules nodded his head in agreement.  _

_ “177,” Alexander recalled, raising an eyebrow at the surprised look on Lafayette’s face.  _

_ “Mon Dieu,” The man muttered and John turned to stare at him with a questioning look on his face. _

_ “You know who he’s rooming with?” _

_ Lafayette smiles, “He’s roommates with Thomas.” _

_ Alexander sees John’s face screw up in distaste and Alex assumes that’s bad. “Wait, whose Thomas and why does John’s face look like that.” _

_ “Thomas is a friend of mine.” Lafayette began softly, “He’s quite opinionated, like yourself. John and Thomas don’t have the best history, which is why he looks like he’s in pain.” and then Lafayette subtlety elbowed John in the ribs, “I believe my dear Thomas has apologized to you already.” Lafayette hissed quietly and Alexander stared at the two men in confusion.  _

_ “Jefferson fucking punched me in the face.” John said, rolling his eyes when Lafayette gave him a stern look.  _

“Oh my God, Thomas!” Mary exclaims, “You punched someone in the face?”

Thomas sends a death glare Alexander’s way, “That’s a story for another time.” He says, “Alexander please continue.”

“Right,” Alexander murmurs, trying to remember where he was. “Okay, so.”

_ Lafayette sighed, “I’ve got to get back to my dorm.” He kissed Alexander on the cheek, “It was nice meeting you, mon cher. Please text me, okay? We must get drinks again.” _

_ “Of course, Lafayette. It was nice meeting you as well. It was nice meeting you all.” Alexander said to the men siting across from him. “But I should also be heading back to my room.” _

_ “I’ll walk you there,” John offered immediately and Alexander felt a warm feeling in his stomach. He looked at John’s smile and found his own face mirroring the smile. “Okay.” He bumped his shoulder against John’s as walked out of the bar together.  _

_ Alexander spent the walk thinking about this mysterious Thomas Jefferson. Why would he punch someone as sweet as John in the face? He wanted to ask, but he figured by not asking, he’d have another excuse to talk to the man at a later date. He smiles at the thought. It was like a schoolyard crush.  _

_ The next moment, Alexander and John were standing in front of room 177 and John’s nervously shoving his hands into his pockets. Alexander looked up at him through his lashes and bit his bottom lip. “I should go meet this Jefferson.” Alexander began softly, his eyes glancing down at John’s kissable lips.  _

_ “You’ll hate him.” John whispered, taking a step closer to him. Alexander smirked and, feeling a little braver, he stepped closer too. John’s eyes were trained on Alex’s lips and Alex let his tongue sweep across his bottom one. _

_ Alexander shakes his head, focusing at the task at hand. He wasn’t here to date, he was here to work and get his name out there. He laughed a little, “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you, John.” Alexander opened the door and stepped inside the room. He was still smiling, but the smile froze on his face when he saw the Adonis that was standing in his room.  _

_ Lafayette had forgotten to mention that the mysterious Thomas Jefferson was the definition of sex.  _

“That’s the first thing you thought about me? After you almost made out with a guy you just met in the hallway outside our dorm.” Thomas asks with a grin. 

Alexander chuckles and shrugs, “You’re hot. Now shut up, we’re getting to the good part.”

_ The man was stunningly hot and Alexander was tempted to ask if he wanted to go ahead and push the beds together, but then Thomas went and opened his mouth.  _

_ “Is this going to become a regular occurrence? Unlike some people, I actually need sleep and I don’t want to be waken up when you stumble back late and drunk.” Jefferson said, his words dipped in an obnoxious southern accent that, unlike John’s, was not charming at all.  _

_ “Maybe,” Alexander challenged, “What are you going to do about it? Punch me in the face?” _

_ Alex saw Jefferson’s jaw clench tight, “Fucking Laurens.” He muttered, “Just keep your side of the room clean and don’t be obnoxiously loud and we won’t have a problem,” _

_ Alexander grit his teeth in frustration. John was right. He had only known Thomas for a few minutes and he was already not liking him. He rolled his eyes and turned his focus to his laptop, completely tuning Jefferson out.  _

“God, you’re both such dicks.” Elizabeth states as Alexander finishes the story. 

“Language Elizabeth.” Jane chastises her and she rolls her eyes. “Honestly boys, how in the hell’d y’all end up together?” 

Thomas shrugs his shoulders and turns to look at Alexander, “I have no idea.” He murmurs, and Alex leans in to quickly to press a kiss against his fake boyfriend’s lips. “Me either.”

Jane smiles, “Well if we’re all done eating, y’all can go wash up. Elizabeth and I can clean this up.”

“You sure you don’t want help?” Alexander asks as he stands up. She pats his cheek and ushers Thomas and him into the house. 

Alexander takes Thomas’s hand and intertwines their fingers. Mary and John are no where to be seen, and Alex figures they’ve already gone to her bedroom. If the way they were staring at each other earlier is any indication, Alexander doesn’t want to be anywhere near her bedroom in the upcoming minutes. 

He follows Thomas upstairs and throws himself dramatically onto the bed. “What does your mom think we do up here all day?” Alexander asks, curling his fingers into the soft comforter. They’ve been spending more and more time in Thomas’s room, Alex working on his paper for Washington’s class and Thomas reading or sleeping. 

“I don’t know about mom, but Mary thinks we’re fucking.” Thomas replies blatantly, he walks over and lays down next to Alex on the bed. The mattress sinks under his body and Alex’s body rolls closer to the Virginian’s. 

Alexander’s heartbeat skyrockets as he looks at the man next to him, the man he’s in love with. “That’s a lot of time to spend having sex.” He tries to tease, but the joke falls flat on his own tongue. He’s just too caught up in having Thomas so close to him. Alexander bites his lip and reaches out to brush a curl out of his fake boyfriend’s eyes. He lets his thumb brush against Thomas’s jawline and drag across his skin. 

“Well if we were hypothetically having sex, you would want me so badly that you’d try to seduce me all the time.” Thomas says and Alexander’s stomach tightens. Did Thomas just sort of imply that he’d want to have sex with Alex? 

“Oh please, you’d be the one trying to seduce me.” Alexander jibs back, his body scooting closer to Thomas’s. His body feels like it’s on fire, each place Thomas is touching sizzles against his skin. He decides in that moment, that he’s going to take John Laurens’s advice. Alex is going to stop thinking about everything before he does it; he’s just going to take what he wants and deal with the consequences and questions after. 

Alexander bites his lip and sits up in the bed. He slings one of his leg over Thomas’s waist and levels himself. He’s sitting on the man’s pelvis, his legs straddling him. 

Thomas’s arms go to his waist on instinct, “What-?” Thomas begins but Alexander leans forward to put his mouth inches away from Thomas. He’s afraid to actually kiss him, afraid that he might cross some invisible boundary that the Virginian has set, so he waits - nerves on edge - for Thomas to make the choice for the both of them. It’s not even a half a second later that Thomas chooses and leans up to press his lips against Alexander’s. 

Unlike the majority of their kisses, there is no one watching this time. Alexander throws himself into the kiss, dragging his mouth hotly alongside Thomas’s. He leans forward, letting his arms slide up the length of the Virginian’s body and then down his arms until he has them pinned above Thomas’s head. He sucks Thomas’s bottom lip into his mouth, gently digging his top teeth into it and then brushing over it with his tongue to soothe the sting. He relaxes into the kiss, relinquishing in the feeling of the man he love’s body pliant underneath him. 

It’s Thomas who eventually rolls them over, letting his hands creep underneath Alex’s shirt. Alexander finds himself smiling into the kiss. He’s here, in the man he love’s bed, kissing aforementioned man. He feels so utterly in love and happy that he can’t help the giggle that escapes his mouth. It ruptures the kiss, and Thomas pulls back to look at him with dark eyes. He stares at Alexander for a moment, before falling sideways on the bed next to him. They’re both starring at the ceiling, silent. 

“I’m exhausted.” The man announces and Alex can only hum in agreement. He is tired, though, and there seems like nothing more he wants to do rather than curl up in Thomas’s arms and take a cat nap. Thomas seems to be thinking the same thing, because he moves closer to Alex and opens his arms. Alex climbs forward, situating himself so that his head rests on Thomas’s chest and closes his eyes. He sighs happily, the ever present exhaustion in his bones creeping back into focus. He yawns, smiling foolishly when it causes a yawn from the man underneath him. He focuses on the steady and rhythmic heartbeat and, like a lullaby, let’s it lure him to sleep. 

When Alexander wakes up, he glances up at the man beneath him and raises a sleepy eyebrow when he sees Thomas awake - and starring at him. The second their eyes meet, Thomas glances away- his cheeks growing darker. His embarrassment is charming, really. As if Alexander doesn’t want to spend every free moment starring at him too. 

“What’s wrong?” Alexander mumbles against the man’s shirt. Thomas’s shirt rode up a little while they were asleep, and Alexander has front row seats to the view. 

“Bets texted me and said mom needs to talk to us.” 

Alex yawns, “So we should go down there.” He bites his lip and smiles, “Can I touch your abs first?”

He feels more than hears Thomas’s laugh, “Sure, if you want to.”

Alexander runs his fingers down Thomas’s chest and lets it brush softly across his skin. He traces the lines on his stomach, fingers sliding across the miles of smooth skin. His fingers brush across the top of the Virginian’s sweatpants and Alex pulls his hand back an inch, no need to get into dangerous territory. He bites his lip as his fingers run across Thomas’s sharp hipbone. 

“If I knew this is what it takes to get you to stop talking, I would have let you touch my abs years ago. It’s like you’ve never seen abs before.” Thomas sighs from beneath him. 

Alexander shrugs, “Yours are nice. Laurens lets me touch his, but his aren’t so  _ defined _ .” Not to mention, he isn’t in love with John like he is Thomas. 

Alex eventually pulls away and stands up. He stretches his arms above his head and yawns loudly. He turns around and grabs Thomas’s arm and begins to pull him towards the door. They walk down the stairs hand in hand, and Alex has to focus on keeping the happy grin off his face. 

They enter the living room and see the rest of the family sitting among the couches and chairs. Alex smooths his shirt self-conscientiously and sees the smirk Mary throws their way. Thomas sits down at the end of the couch, and Alex curls up next to him. 

For a fleeting second, Alexander worries that they’ve been found out. That somehow he has given away the fact that this entire relationship is a sham. Had he slipped up and accidentally said something to give them away? Had Elizabeth overheard his conversation with John earlier?

“I have some news. I’ve already spoken with Peter, but I figured the rest of you should be filled in.” Jane begins, “Peter and I have to go down to Wilmington on Friday for a college visit. I figured we’d stay the night there and come back on Saturday.”

“Can I come?” Elizabeth interrupts her mother, closing her book and setting it on the table in front of her. 

“Of course,” Jane replies, “This means you kids will be on your own most of Friday until the late afternoon on Saturday, okay? No funny business,” She looks pointedly at Mary. 

Mary scoffs, but Alex can see the smile on her face. “It’s not like those two do anything but sleep and other things I won’t mention. We’ll be fine, mom, we’re adults.”

Jane grins, “Perfect. Now, I’ve got to go check on my pie.” She adds, standing and walking from the room towards the kitchen. 

The second she leaves the room, Mary is leaning forward and whispering, “We have to throw a party!”

Alexander’s automatically hesitant. All he can think about is what happened at the last Virginia party he went to. Seeing James and Thomas, overreacting, yelling at Thomas, flirting with Washington. He winces, “I don’t know. The last one I went to didn’t end great.”

He feels Thomas tense next to him, but the man doesn’t say anything.   
  
“Are you talking about James’s party?” Mary asks and Alex nods, “Oh no, sweets. We are not throwing a crusty ass old money party. We’re throwing a good old fashion Jefferson college party.” 

Alexander doesn’t say anything and Mary puffs her bottom lip out, “Please Alex. It’s spring break and all you guys do is nap like you’re a sixty year old married couple. You need to live a little.”

The more Alexander thinks about it, the more he warms to the idea. Alcohol, music, dancing, Thomas. Dancing with Thomas. Dancing  _ against  _ Thomas. 

“Okay, I wouldn’t be opposed to a party.” Alexander says, all his concerns fading when he thinks about getting to drunk dance with Thomas again. The night at the club will be imprinted on his brain for the rest of his life. 

He sinks back into Thomas’s arms while Mary cheers and begins planning the shindig. 

Thomas leans forward to wrap his arms tighter around Alex’s waist and then begins peppering kisses down his neck. Alexander relaxes in the feeling, and smiles to himself. He feels Thomas’s lap vibrate, and he’s startled for a moment, until he realizes that the vibrating is coming from his back pocket. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Alexander’s heart stops when he sees the screen. 

_Incoming call from_ : **Eliza Schuyler**

Oh fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr at: willieverbesatisfied  
> I love getting asks and messages from you all :)
> 
> Up Next: The Ex Girlfriend


	16. The Ex Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza calls and Alexander really misses John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all more than words can explain. Let me know what you think about this slightly longer than usual chapter? 
> 
> Comments = faster chapters
> 
> (Please keep in mind there are two John's in this story. John Laurens- who is back in New York, and John Bowling- Mary's boyfriend who is in Virginia)
> 
> Here's a table of contents for all you wondering about "special" chapters  
> Chapter 20- The end of part 1  
> Chapter 28- Thomas's perspective  
> Chapter 32- Lafayette's perspective  
> Chapter 35- The end of part 2  
> Chapter 40- The end of part 3 and the epilogue

Alexander stares down at the phone in his hand. He can’t help but keep read the name again and again, afraid that his mind is somehow playing a horrible trick on him, afraid that when he answers the call it won’t be her voice on the line. He realizes suddenly, that this is probably his last chance with her. If he doesn’t answer this call, he’ll likely never get another opportunity. Apprehension stirs thickly in his stomach like maple syrup, sweet and sticky, heavily weighing down his body.

“Excuse me,” Alexander finds himself saying, “I’ve got to take this call.” He stands up from Thomas’s lap, ignoring the look the Virginian sends him and scurries into the hallway, his steps hurried and his feet leading him in the direction of the library. Alex swipes the pad of his thumb across the screen and holds it up to his ear, afraid that waiting any longer will send the call to voicemail.

“Hello,” Alexander murmurs into the phone. He holds his breath as he waits for the reply.

There’s a beat of silence, and then, for the first time since he posted the article, he hears her speak. “Hello, Alexander.”

Eliza’s voice sounds no different than the last time they spoke, many months ago. It’s soft like freshly laundered clothing, warm like the Virginia sunshine on his bare skin, and sweet like honey. Her voice is comforting and sounds like home. In the instant, he feels blinded by her words, blinded by the way his name sounds on her tongue; crisp and sweet. How had he ever doubted her? How had he ever wanted anything other than her? Eliza, his Eliza, sweet and good and better than he could ever be. Better than anything he deserves. 

“Eliza,” Alexander utters her name like a prayer, his voice sounding broken and raspy, “I’m surprised you called.”

When he spoke to Angelica about having Eliza reach out to him, Alexander had been hopeful. As each day passed without her name flashing across his phone screen, the hope he had declined substantially.

But here they are, Eliza’s name on his phone and her timid voice on the other end of the line.

He can hear her breathe deeply through the line before she responds, “I wasn’t going to, but every time I went to delete your number, I couldn’t bring myself to. I just knew I needed to do this. I knew I needed to speak with you.” She admits softly, “It’s been quite awhile. How have you been?”

His heart hurts, because of course after everything he’s done to her, she still cares how he’s been. Alex shouldn’t have expected anything else, this is the Elizabeth Schuyler that he knows. The one he loves.“I’ve been fine, Betsey.” He tells her, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’m so sorry-”

She interrupts him before he can finish the apology, “Alex, please.” Her voice sounding desperate and sad as she continues,“I just- I just want to talk to you for a little while, okay? No apologize, none of that. I still love you, but I haven’t forgiven you. You didn’t just break my heart, Alexander, you ripped it from my chest, still beating, and tore it to shreds. Then you posted my humiliation online for everyone to see. My parents read your post. My professors, my coworkers, and my boss too. I need time, Alexander. For the time being, I just want to talk to you.”

For the first time since the day that he posted the Reynolds's Pamphlet, Alexander can finally fully understands the ramifications of his actions. She had never said anything about it after he posted it. Eliza had simply told him that it was over and given his things to Angelica who gave them to John. Despite what everyone says about him, Alexander is not a stupid man, he knew how much his actions had hurt her. It’s different hearing it from her lips though.

“I’ll give you all the time in the world. Forever and ever, I will wait here patiently by your side.” He breaths, his words the only promise he can give her. Alexander can hear her deep inhale on the line. He longs to reach out to her, to wrap himself around her small frame. He wishes to hold her body against his and comfort her.

“Enough about that.” Eliza says, abruptly changing the conversation. The tone of her voice making it clear that the conversation is a closed subject, “Angelica tells me you’re in Virginia, and that you’re pretending to date Thomas Jefferson.”

The last thing he needs at the moment is a reminder of his current situation. “I am. Th- Jefferson asked for my help and I agreed.” He quickly reverts back to using Thomas’s last name.

Alexander can hear the surprise in her voice when she speaks again, “I’m impressed. You’re actually helping him?”

He sighs into the phone, “Of course I am. It’s only a couple of weeks.”

There’s an awkward silence, and Alexander’s surprised that this hasn’t happened earlier in the phone call. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he wants to tell her but he can’t bring himself to. She had said that they wouldn’t talk about it, and he can respect her wishes.

“That’s very mature of you.” She murmurs softly.

There’s a muffled sound and Alex assumes she’s holding the phone to her chest. He can hear quiet talking and then there’s shifting and she begins talking again, “I’ll be there in a second Peggy,” She laughs at something that Peggy must have said, “I’ve got to go, Alex, Pegs needs my help. But, um, it’s been really nice talking to you.”

“You as well, my Eliza.”

She pauses and when she speaks again her voice has taken on a determined tone, “I have to go, Alexander.”

He makes a pathetic noise in the back of his throat and tries to think of a way to continue the conversation. He feels more alive than he’s felt since the breakup, and the sound of her voice drills through the months of anxiety he’s been piling onto his shoulders. “Will you call again?” Alexander asks because he needs to know. He needs to know that he will get to hear her voice again. He needs to know that this wasn’t a one time thing, that she wasn’t just hanging a metaphorical carrot out to him while he chased after it.

Her voice is quiet when she replies, “Yes. I’ll call again. I really must be going, Alex. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line clicks and goes dead.

The second he pulls the phone away from his face, he’s overcome by mixed emotions. On one hand, he’s fucking ecstatic. Eliza called him; she actually called him! After all this time, after all this hurt and waiting, she actually called him. In a way, it seems her voice alone has healed his heart.

On the the other hand, he feels even more confused than he did before, if that’s even possible. He looks around at the library and sighs. He’s in Virginia - Thomas’s home state - and he’s in Thomas’s house, with Thomas’s family. And he’s in love with Thomas.

Alexander moves to sit down in the chair by the window. He loves Eliza. He loves Thomas. But he can’t have them both. How can he choose between the two of them? Does he love one of them enough to choose them over the other? Does he even want to date Thomas?

Slow down.

Why’s he even stressing about if he wants to date Thomas or not? Alex doesn’t even know if Thomas likes him back. He’s pretty sure that Thomas doesn’t like him back. Sure, they kiss a lot for the sake of their fake relationship- and recently they’ve been kissing away from the eyes of Thomas’s family. They’ve been kissing in private. They’ve been kissing because they want to kiss. At the very least that gives Alexander some semblance of hope.

He feels an ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe, Thomas returns his feelings.

He’s not going to dwell on it, though. He can’t afford to.

Alexander shoves his phone into his pocket and rests his head against the back of the couch. He keeps running through the same thoughts, keeps making the same points, keeps stressing about the same things. It’s what he always does when he overthinks something. It’s the same thing he does in his writing; his need to repetitively examine something and to continuously make the same point is one of the reasons his writing is so long. Burr didn’t hesitate to point that out. _(“Seriously Alexander, you have already made both of these points, several times. It’s useless to include sentences that don’t add anything new to your paper.”)_

For a second, he wishes Aaron Burr were here. If anyone could sort through the thoughts that chase Alexander, it’d be Burr.

At the same time, it’s not like Burr would ever do anything if he figured out what he wanted. He’d sit in wait and let things come to him. Alexander can’t do that. He can’t afford to wait. He’s got less than a week to figure out what he wants.

And he has no idea where to start.

He eventually remembers Lauren’s words and decides that he’s not going to get anything accomplished by sitting in the library and starring out the window. The weather’s - once again - taken a turn for the worst, and the darkening clouds in the West are making him feel a little queasy. Alexander stands up, brushing his fingers through his dark hair and tying it at the back of his neck in a sloppy pony tail. A few stray strands slip down over his ears. He taps his fingers against the desk and closes his eyes.

In all honestly, all he really wants is to go to sleep early. It’s only like four in the afternoon, but every bone and muscle in Alexander’s body is tense and overworked; he feels like he hasn’t slept in years. He’s never slept well, as a child he was lucky if he got seven hours, but he has never felt this unrested in his entire life. He feels strung out and restless, but at the same time exhausted. It’s a contradiction that makes his head ache painfully.

For the first time since he left Virginia, Alexander realizes how much he misses his friends. He misses the soft comfort that he finds in John Laurens. The strong - almost parental - love Hercules shows him. The exuberant confidence that Lafayette radiates like sunshine.

His throat feels tight and Alexander, mortifyingly enough, feels a building pressure behind his eyes. What he wouldn’t do for Hercules advice, Lafayette’s contagious confidence, one of John’s hugs. What he wouldn’t do to cuddle up in John’s arms at the moment.

God, he misses them. He chokes on the tears he’s desperately trying to push down, and let’s out a ragged breath. A few wet tears slip down his cheeks and Alexander wipes them away, cursing their very existence.

He pulls out his phone and dials the only phone number he knows by heart. Alexander holds it up to his ear and listens to the monotonous ringing. Once, twice, three times, four, and-

“Hey this is John. You’ve reached my voicemail, obviously. Leave a message if it’s important, unless you’re Charles Lee. In that case, fuck off.”

Voicemail.

Alexander takes a deep breath and waits for the beep. “This is Alex, um, just give me a call when you get this please.”

He hits the end call button on his phone and slips it into his back pocket again. Alexander wipes the tear trails from his face and stalks out of the library.

He’s climbing the stairs when he - quite literally - runs into Thomas. Alexander resists the urge to roll his eyes, because of course, the first person he runs into is the one person he didn’t want to see at the moment.

“Sorry,” Thomas says and his eyes zero in on Alexander’s face. He sincerely hopes that there is no visible evidence of his breakdown still remaining on his face.

“Are you alright?” Thomas murmurs, he reaches out to touch Alexander and he involuntarily flinches away from the touch. Alex hears Thomas’s sharp intake of breath and he keeps his gaze purposely on the ground. He didn’t mean to upset the other man, he just can’t do this at the moment.

“I’m fine.” His words are rudimentary at best; his voice monotonous and tone on the other side of chilly. Alexander can literally see Thomas shrink, and he glances up to apologize. He’s being a dick, he knows, but he’s feeling too many things at once and his fight or flight response is kicking in and he just needs to _go_.

Like a million other times, the apology won’t leave his lips. Alex swallows roughly, “I’m fine.” He repeats as he steps around the Virginia, the words don’t even sound convincing to his own ears. He climbs the stairs in silence and enters Thomas’s room. Alexander locks himself in the bathroom and splashes water in his face; he takes a few deep breaths and tries to get himself under control.

He looks at himself in the mirror once he thinks he’s finally got himself together. Alexander sighs and cracks his knuckles. He practices his smile in the mirror and eventually gathers the courage to exit the bathroom.

Alex takes the stairs two at a time and enters the living room with a rehearsed smile on his face. Mary and John are curled up in the love seat, and Thomas is sitting by himself on the sofa. There’s the beginning credits of a movie playing and Alexander frowns.

“Join us, Alex.” Mary waves him over and he smiles at her. He takes a seat next to Thomas on the couch; close enough not to give them away, but a large enough space between them that Thomas shoots him a look.

It brings back memories from another movie night, a few years earlier, around the time he started dating Eliza.

_“I’m sorry.” Alexander looked away from the popcorn that he was popping, “I must have misheard you, because I know you did not just imply that Lafayette invited Thomas Jefferson to our movie night.” He stared at John, not breaking eye contact as the other man looked everywhere but at him._

_“What the fuck!” He hissed, his hands flying up to frame his face and emphasize his anger. “I wanted a movie night with friends! The Hamilsquad only. He can’t just invite Thomas fucking Jefferson.”_

_John rolled his eyes and turned back to table, “First of all, yes he can Alex. Lafayette and I both live here. Secondly, I get that you hate him, but Jefferson is your roommate.”_

_“That’s the fucking point, John! I put up with him all day. Movie nights are my break from his obnoxious ass personality. How can I survive if he infringes upon this too?”_

_It was a moment later that Lafayette entered the kitchen, and Alexander glared at him._

_“How could you do this to me? Is no space sacred to that scoundrel?” Alexander asked him, his voice sounding utterly betrayed and offended._

_Lafayette looked from John to Alex, before rolling his eyes. “Mon ami, please listen to what I’m saying before you verbally lacerate me.”_

_Alexander goes to open his mouth but the look Lafayette sends him shuts him up before a word can leave his mouth. He pressed his lips together into an unimpressed thin line._

_Lafayette continued, “Alexander, before you start accusing Thomas of intruding on your sacred ground, please know that he doesn’t even want to come. I had to beg him to join us, and if it wasn’t for me he’d be at home sleeping to avoid his problems.”_

_Alexander’s mouth pulled into a frown, “What’s wrong with him?” He asked._

_“Martha and him got into an argument.” Lafayette explained, “He was moping around your dorm when I stopped to drop off the clothes you left here. Dear Thomas looked pathetic, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him being miserable alone.” Lafayette hummed, “I’d much rather him be miserable with us.”_

_Martha. Thomas’s girlfriend- or sort of girlfriend. Alexander didn’t really know and he didn’t really care to ask. He had only met her twice: the first time was horrifying. He was supposed to be meeting James Madison to work on their project about the Constitution, but upon realizes he had forgotten his best pen, Alexander had went back to the dorm to retrieve it. It was then that he walked in on a pretty intense make out session and proceeded to go blind for the next forty minutes. (He had a theory that Jefferson was trying to keep him from befriending her, because he never brought her by the dorm after that time.) The second time he saw her was in one of his political theory classes. She had sat next to him and had apologized for what he walked in on earlier in the year._

_Martha was nice, and he could see why Thomas would be interested in her. She was a radiant beauty: dark skin, dark eyes, and a piercing smile that portrayed such genuine kindness that Alexander hadn’t been bothered when she continued to sit next to him._

_He was actually kind of sad when he dropped the class two weeks later, not because of Martha, but because Professor Adams was a dick. Just thinking about that asshole made him roll his eyes._

_Alexander was a little surprised to hear about the argument. He hadn’t noticed anything different about Thomas lately, but then again it’s not like he cared enough to actively pay attention to the other man and his relationship._

_“I expect you to be civil tonight, Alex.” Lafayette lectured him, “No mocking, no rude comments, nothing.”_

_He nodded with another roll of his eyes. As long as Thomas could keep his mouth shut, Alexander shouldn’t have a problem either._

_He genuinely thought that until the Virginian walked in. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes that rivaled Alexander’s own. His sweatpants and tee shirt were wrinkled, and his glasses (which he almost never wore) sat perched on his nose._

_Thomas looked like utter shit._

_The man sent him an annoyed look, “Thanks, Alexander. I appreciate your kind words.”_

_And fuck he said that out loud. Lafayette sent him a glare and Alex spit out a half assed apology. Thomas just shrugged and sat down on the couch. He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared blankly ahead, a bored look on his face. He looked so pathetic that Alexander almost felt sorry for him._

_Almost._

_Instead he flopped down right next to him on the couch and laughed when Thomas let out a groan of disgust._

He zones out for the majority of the movie, and at this point he’s not even trying to pretend that he’s okay. Thomas keeps glancing over at him, concern written in the wrinkles on his face, and Alexander’s trying to keep from making a scene. The only thing worse than whatever funk he’s dug himself into would be bringing Thomas’s family into it with him.

He already feels shitty enough for bringing Thomas into it, but it’s not like he could exactly avoid doing so.

Dinner is the same as the movie. Alexander sits next to Thomas, but keeps a good distance between the two of them. He mumbles his way through whatever conversation Mary’s having with him. She seems to be leading the conversation mostly on her own, and he sprinkles in little phrases here and there to keep her talking.

He feels horribly rude but he can’t bring himself to be a more active participant in the conversations. Alexander feels like shit. He’s getting close to Thomas’s family and then in less than a week they’re going to stage a breakup and he’s never going to see them again. He cares for them. He’ll miss them. Alexander will never be able to take Mary up on her offer to go shopping in the city, or to help Elizabeth with her history paper, or watch one of Peter’s football games.

He’s made so many promises, and after this break ends, his not going to be able to keep a single one of them.

After dinner, Alexander offers to load the dishwasher by himself. Everyone seems to have noticed his mood and understands his need to be alone at the moment, because no one objects or offers to help him.

He uses the ten minutes it takes to load the dishes to compose himself, _again_. It’s as he finishes loading the last dish, that John finally decides to call him back.

Alexander looks down at his phone, seeing the name on his screen and feels his emotions from earlier bubble up again. He clicks answer and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hey baby girl.” John says and Alex takes a deep breath. That voice. His best friend’s voice, the comfortable - metaphorical - hand on his shoulder that he needs, that he misses. He’s embarrassed by the tears that flood his eyes.

“Hey John.” He sighs as he tries to ignore the pain in his heart. A few tears cascade down his face.

John’s quiet for a moment and then he speaks slowly, “Alexander, what’s wrong? You sound upset.”

It’s that sentence which is his undoing. He chokes out a muffled sob as he sits down on the kitchen floor. Alexander’s full on crying now, tears streaming down his face and onto his hand. He’s desperately trying to catch his breath, choked sounds escaping from his throat with each attempt. His trying to be quiet, and each sob rocks his body as he tries to hold them in.

“Hey, shh, Alex. Listen to me. Listen to me. Breath. Shh, tell me what happened.” John consoles him from the phone, and God, Alex wishes he was here. The thought brings on another round of tears and uncontrollable sobs.

He eventually gets calmed down enough that he can respond to his friend’s question. “I just miss you.” Alexander mumbles, “I miss you so fucking much, John.”

“I miss you too, baby girl.” John says, his voice a continual comfort for Alexander, “Is that why you’re crying?”

Alexander takes a deep breath, his breath staccato and horribly uneven, “I feel so alone here.”

“You’re not alone.” John explains, “As surprisingly as it is for me to say this, Jefferson doesn’t hate you anymore. He seems to actually care about you, and from what you’ve told me about his family, they care about you too. You have them and you have us back here too. You’re not alone, Alex.”

Alex does recognize that Thomas must somewhat care about him. And he thinks about Mary’s hugs, John Bowling’s advice, Peter sharing his cookies with Alex even when he wouldn’t share them with Thomas, Jane and Elizabeth’s concerned looks during dinner. A heavy sigh escapes his lungs because they _do_ care. And as much as he was trying to avoid it, he cares about them too.

“I know. I’m just emotionally frazzled and missing your hugs. You have the best hugs.”

He decides not to tell John about the reason he’s so emotionally frazzled. He knows he can trust him, but he does not what to talk about Eliza at the moment. Alex can always send him a text tomorrow and inform him of this newest development.

“I know I do.” John says softly, “I miss you so much, Alex, more than you know..”

It makes him smile, “I miss you more.” Alexander hears a noise coming from the other room and decides now might be a good time to end the call, “I have to go, but I love you a lot.”

“Just a week left Alex and then you will be home. And I love you more.”

“ _Impossible_.”

The phone clicks and he sighs.

Once he starts the dishwasher, Alexander slowly climbs the stairs towards Thomas’s room. He half hopes that Thomas is already asleep and his hope is dashed when he sees the light streaming from underneath the door.

He enters the room and strips his clothes off before pulling on a more comfortable pair of sweatpants and a light tee shirt. He doesn’t even care if Thomas sees him in his boxers. He doesn’t care that he still needs to wash his face and brush his teeth. He’s too tired to give a damn about anything at the moment. As they tend to do, his earlier cry had left him exhausted.

He crawls into bed beside the Virginian and let’s out a sigh of relief when his face hits the pillow.

“Alexander, please tell me what’s bothering you.” Thomas says, his voice quiet but comforting. Alexander thinks about lying again, about shrugging it off, but after his conversation with John, he feels like he needs to reach out. He feels like Thomas deserves to know.

“The call I got in the library. It was Eliza..” He starts, “We’re going to try and fix things.”

There is a minute of silence from the Virginian and then a silent, “Oh,” as he breathes the word. Alexander glances over at him, and notices that the man seems to refuse to make eye contact. He wishes he could read Thomas’s mind, so he could get a grasp on what the other man is thinking.

“Yeah,”

Thomas is quiet for a second, “Shouldn’t you be happier?”

“Everything is just, uh, _complicated_.” Understatement of the  fucking century, “That’s not the only thing, though. I also really miss my friends.”

Thomas’s eyes narrow for a second before he’s climbing out of the bed and pulling Alexander with him. Alex yawns, his body groaning with exhaustion.

“What the?” Alexander starts but Thomas hushes him.

Thomas drags him down the stairs, “Come on. You’re sad, and I know just what will cheer you up.”

Alex follows Thomas silently, deciding that he’s not in the mood to argue. Thomas sits him down at the bar in the kitchen and then bends down to rummage in the freezer, giving Alex a great view of his ass. Alexander bites his lip, raising a little in the seat to get a better view.

He might feel like shit, but he can still admire fine art.

Thomas comes back with a large container of chocolate ice cream. Alexander can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face. The Virginian dishes out several large scoops of ice cream into a bowl before putting the container back in the freezer and moving to the opposite cabinets. When he walks back, his hands are full of different types of toppings.

There are jars of gummy bears, Oreos, chocolate chip cookies, lemon drops, chocolate rocks, and several bottles of syrups. And that’s not even all of it.

“What toppings would you like?” Thomas asks, gesturing to the wide variety of choices in front of him. Alex bites his lip, “Gummy bears for sure, both kinds of cookies, fudge syrup, m&m’s and whip cream.” He says, “Oh and don’t forget sprinkles.”

Thomas adds all the toppings his requested, making the process much more dramatic than it needed to be. He tosses things behind his back before catching them. Adding ingredients with a stone cold facade of seriousness before bursting out in laughter when he overshoots the bowl and sends M&M’s flying all over Alexander’s lap.

They barely talk - there’s nothing that needs to be said - but Thomas is just silly and distracting enough to take Alex’s mind off of how miserable he was before. It’s an extremely gracious thing for Thomas to do, and it makes Alexander’s heart flutter.

He slides the bowl towards Alexander and hands him a spoon. Alex takes a tentative bite and can’t help it when he closes his eyes and sighs with happiness. He glances back at Thomas and upon seeing the skittish look on the Virginian’s face and his closed off body language, raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

Thomas seems relieved and steps forward to grab the spoon from Alex’s hand. He avoids the top of the sundae and digs to the bottom. Thomas takes a bite, the spoon covered in chocolate ice cream and syrup, a lone gummy bear sitting on the top.

“What? Don’t like whip cream?” He murmurs, his eyes never leaving the spoon in Thomas’s mouth. Alex watches the man swallow before Thomas hands the spoon back and replies, “Hell no. It takes like air.”

Alexander chokes with laughter around his spoonful of ice cream. Some of the strain in Thomas’s eyes disappears at the sound and his chest inflates with a deep breath of air. Alex looks down at the counter, feeling guilty for causing so much tension between them.

He’s never had more in common with Thomas than he does at the current moment. They’re both just trying to get through this trip alive.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier.” Alexander finds himself apologizing, the words falling off his tongue easier than ever before.

Thomas’s eyes soften even more as he turns from where he was putting toppings back into the cabinet. He reaches out across the table and puts his hand on Alex’s. His palm is freezing but it sends electrical sparks right to Alexander’s heart.

“You don’t have to apologize. You were upset; I understand. Just know that if somethings bother you, you can tell me. As much as it might surprise you, I don’t find enjoyment in your misery.”

It’s not the declaration of love he wanted, but at this point Alexander will take whatever he can get.

Alexander nods, a smile on his face, as he helps Thomas clean up the mess they made. Once all the dishes are in the sink, and the counter is wiped down Alex turns to face his fake boyfriend. He still hears those worries nagging at him in the back of his head, but when he looks into Thomas's eyes, they aren’t nearly as ferocious.

When Thomas offers his arm to Alex, he takes it with a grin and let’s the man lead him up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Plan


	17. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally nothing happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is even longer than the last (6,000) and literally nothing happens. 
> 
> On another note, I start my senior year soon! This, unfortunately, means I probably wont have as much time to write (although I never seem to have time as it is). I'll try to keep things consistent, but you never know. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Comments=faster chapters

When Alexander wakes up, his eyes are immediately assaulted by the blinding sunlight that streams intoxicatingly through Thomas’s windows. He barely resists the urge to duck back underneath the blankets, instead he opts for cursing both Thomas and himself for forgetting to pull closed the curtains last night.

He yawns loudly, partially stifling it with the back of his hand. It’s as his eyes begin to adjust to the bright room that the memories from last night begin to resurface. 

The call from Eliza. The ache in his chest from missing his friends. Closing himself off from Thomas. His heart healing phone call with John. Thomas forcing him to talk and then consoling him with ice cream and sugary candy. 

Alexander’s heart still feels heavy - it’s like an iron weighing down on his chest - but it’s lighter than yesterday. He snuggles deeper into the comforter and closes his eyes. He can feel Thomas behind him, the man is so close that Alex can feel the heat radiating off him and hear the comforting sound of his rhythmic breathing. It’s almost enough of a lullaby to lull him back into oblivion. He’s so close to the edge of darkness, when Alexander hears his phone ping from the bedside table. 

He sighs - there’s no way he’ll be able to fall back asleep now - and reaches over to grab it. The metal of his phone is cool in his palm and Alexander blinks stupidly at the screen. He’s got a snapchat in the Revolutionary Squad group chat from Hercules, and a string of text messages from John. 

Alex opens John’s messages first. 

_ From john: Hope you’re feeling better this morning.  _

_ From john: You’ll never guess who we ran into at Marty’s _

_ From john: fucking Seabury. Wish you were here to debate that dickface _

_ From john: miss you sweetcheeks :)  _

Alexander is in the middle of composing a reply when he hears a shuffling behind him. 

“God, it’s bright in here.” Thomas groans and Alex can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He finishes typing the message and hits send. 

_ To john _ :  _ I miss you more, Schmoop. <3 Please don’t punch him until I get back. You know Herc is tired of driving you to the ER.  _

Alexander sits up and turns to face Thomas. He looks down at the Virginia, who is - at the moment - looking anywhere but Alexander. Alex sighs and puts his hand on the man’s shoulder. Thomas’s gaze flickers up to Alex and he yawns. 

“Thank you.” Alexander says quietly and genuinely, “For last night. I really needed it. 

Thomas smiles sleepily at Alexander and despite the lingering worries in his head, Alex leans forward to kiss the other man. 

Their lips meet softly and Alex barely holds in his groan. It hadn’t even been a day and he forgot how good kissing Thomas was. The Virginian’s mouth is soft and pliant against his own, and Alexander scoots closer, practically molding his body against Thomas’s. 

Thomas kisses shyly, or maybe hesitantly would be a better word. His hands rest on Alexander’s shoulders, ready to push himself away if the time comes that he needs to. (Considering all that happened last night, Alexander can understand why the other man would be hesitant. He did spend a good portion of the evening crying and avoiding Thomas.)

He breaks the kiss a second later and rolls onto his back, breathing heavily. Alex sees the smile on Thomas’s face as the man pulls him closer and wraps an arm around his waist. 

“You’re welcome.”

So things are back to normal. That’s good. That’s what he wanted. 

And yet, he still can’t help but think of Eliza. Alexander curses internally; he promised himself - and John - that he’d stop getting so caught up in his head. After last night, he knows now - more than ever before - that over thinking things will do more harm than good. He can’t help it though; his mind is stuck on a continuous loop. 

When will she call next? When will she call next? When will she call next?

He momentarily puts Eliza out of his mind and decides to look at the snapchat he has. 

He opens the snap and miles at the photo. It’s a picture of John and Lafayette, sitting next to each other in a booth at what Alex thinks is Marty’s Diner. John’s looking down at his plate, a mysterious smile on his face. Lafayette’s facing the camera but he’s looking at John out of the corner his eye and smirking. The photo is so clear that Alexander can count the freckles on Laurens’s face and see each individual thread in Lafayette’s scarf. Alexander screenshots the picture and double taps the screen to reply. 

The camera opens on him and Alex smiles. “Get in this photo with me.”

Thomas looks at the phone and smirks, sliding over to press a soft kiss to Alexander’s cheek. Alex smiles and snaps the photo, inhaling deeply when Thomas doesn’t pull away, but instead begins to trail the kisses down his neck. 

Alexander giggles at the feeling of Thomas’s beard scratching against his neck and looks at the photo. It’s a good one, he thinks, and he makes sure to save it to his phone before sending it in the group chat.

He locks his phone and turns his attention back to the man next to him. He’s not going to think about Eliza. He’s not going to; at least not right now. 

“Good morning,” Alexander murmurs with a small smile and then all but launches himself into Thomas’s arms. He kisses the man softly, a whimper falling from his mouth when Thomas threads his fingers through the long strands of Alex’s hair. 

It’s Thomas who eventually flips them over, so that he’s laying on top of Alexander. They kiss sweetly again, and this time it’s Thomas who pulls away first. He drops his head down onto Alexander’s chest and sighs. Alex bites his own lip and runs his fingers through Thomas’s hair. 

He feels such affection in that moment - such unyielding love in his heart - that Alexander decides that now is the best time to take the rest of John’s advice. “Thomas,” Alexander starts, “Thomas I- can I tell you something?” 

The man looks up, chocolate eyes mixed with sprinkles of caramel, shining with hope and curiosity, “Of course you can, you know that.”

How can he put this? He considers just flat out saying it, but an  _ I love you _ seems like it would be too much, especially considering that they’ve only started not hating each other two weeks ago. 

“I-” He closes his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, Alexander is at a loss for words. He curses himself because, of course, the English language had to pick the worst time to fail him, “I, uhm.”

Thomas’s palm comes up to gently cup Alexander’s face, “You can tell me anything, Alex.”

Alexander opens his eyes and stares deeply into Thomas’s. He takes a breath, “I really, really-”

As soon as his lips start to form the word  _ like,  _ he’s interrupted by an incessant knock on the door. 

Thomas’s eyes flash with annoyance and he glares so hard at the door, that Alexander is actually surprised that it didn’t combust into flames. The words die on his tongue and his hands drop onto the sheets next to them. 

“Come in.” Thomas hisses, his words sounding cold to Alex’s ears. The Virginian doesn’t bother moving off of Alexander’s body, and he looks so annoyed that Alex isn’t going to bring it up and risk having that anger turned on him. 

The doorknob twists and then the door is swinging open. “As adorable as you two are, I assure you that you don’t have time for a quicky. We’re throwing a party tonight, in case you forgot.”

Alexander groans as Thomas dislodges himself from Alex’s body. Alexander sits up and lets the blanket pool at his waist. 

“So I need you both to clean the kitchen, and then one of you - or both since you seem inseparable - needs to pick up the kegs.” Mary explains as she walks further into the room, “When I called I requested three large ones but there might only be two available. Either way, pick them up and also buy a few more bottles of vodka - Marya mentioned something about body shots - a bottle of red wine for Dolley, and whatever other hard liquor you think we should have, John’s got the bar stalked downstairs, and Aida is coming over in an hour to help me with the food, so you two need to get up and help me by cleaning  the kitchen.” She says quick, and in almost one breath, clapping her hands together. 

Thomas starts, “Mary-”

“If you don’t get up this second, I’ll tell Alexander about Maria Cosway.”

It’s almost amusing how fast Thomas’s body springs up from the bed. He turns back to the bed, “Let’s go Alex, we’ve got things to do.”

Interesting. He’ll have to remember to get the story from Mary sometime. 

Mary claps her hands together and smiles brightly at them, “Great. Thomas, I’ll text you the list of things I need you to pick up.”

Once she exits the room, Alexander turns to face the man next to him. His mouth falls open a little, “ _ Three  _ large kegs?” Alex whispers, “How many people are going to be here?”

Thomas raises an eyebrow, “There will be quite a few people. Dolley and James will be here, and James Monroe, so you’ll know some people in attendance.”

“Are you planning on ditching me?” Alexander asks as he quickly changes clothes. 

“No,”

Alex glances up at him, “Good. Then I don’t need to know anyone but you.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face that warms Alex’s heart. He begins tying his hair up in a bun win his phone dings and Alex recognizes the snapchat tone. He looks at the screen and sees a new snap from Lafayette in the Revolutionary Squad.    
  
“Thomas, can you look at that for me?”

The man comes over, and standing behind Alex, grabs the phone. “What’s your password?”

“5646.”

Thomas types the password, “John.”

Alexander glances up to look into his eyes in the mirror, “What?”

“Your password is John.”

Alexander swallows as he grabs his toothbrush, “John changed it for me. It was Liza but he changed it after the breakup.”

Thomas doesn’t say anything, he just nods and looks back down at the phone. Alexander doesn’t understand why he suddenly feels guilty. 

“What’d he say?”

“What?” Thomas asks, looking up from the phone in his hands.   
  
“Laf, what’d he say?”

If Alexander didn’t know better, he’d say that Thomas  _ blushed _ , “Nothing, uhm, nothing. Just a picture of Hercules.”

That was unusual. Alex had expected the man to have a comment about the picture of Thomas and him that he had sent. “Okay,” Alexander replies, deciding not to read into it, “Ready to go clean?”

It’s not long until Alex learns that cleaning with Thomas is… quite the endeavor. Mary had left them with two lists; one for the alcohol they needed to pick up for tonight’s party, and a detailed list of what they needed to focus on in the kitchen. The list was fairly lengthy, and she made it perfectly clear that she expected them to have every task completed before Aida arrived. 

None of the tasks on the list were particularly difficult, but the gesture left Alexander feeling like he was six again and cleaning the kitchen with his brother. The thought brought a smile to his face as his eyes scanned the list for the second time. They were simple chores that he had predicted: wash dishes, mop floor, wipe down table and counter tops, etc. It’s nothing that Alex hasn’t done before. (Although he’d usually pawn off the dishes to James.)

“Do you want to split the list and we each take three, or do you want to help each other with each one?” Alexander asks as he looks up from the sheet of paper in his hand. Thomas is leaning against the table with his arms crossed, looking at him with a knowing look on his face, and Alex feels his cheeks flush at the amount of emotion in the other man’s eyes. 

“I think it’d be faster if we split it up.” Is the reply he gets. Alexander nods stiffly, refusing to meet the Virginian’s eye and instead focuses his gaze on the paper. 

Alexander hums silently, “Alright. You start on loading the dishes and I’ll wipe everything down.”

Thomas sends him another one of  _ those looks  _ with one of  _ those smiles _ \- the one where he looks like nothing could make him happier - and turns towards the sink with a nod. He steps back, bending down to grab a bottle of soap out of the bottom of the sink. Alex’s breath leaves his lungs- fuck, why did he have to wear such tight pants - and he quickly faces the other way. God, he’s got to get his head in the game and stop being so obvious about his pathetic little crush. 

Maybe being interrupted this morning by Mary, right when he was about to confess his feelings, was some type of sign from the universe. Maybe it was trying to warn him that the time wasn’t right. That telling Thomas about his feelings right now would be a mistake. Now that Alexander has had time to reflect, he doesn’t know why the fuck he thought it would be a good idea to tell him in the first place. 

There are so many reasons that he shouldn’t tell him. First of all, Alexander just came to the conclusion that what he’s feeling is love. What’s the proper etiquette here? Should he wait longer, just to be sure that he doesn’t have some fucked up kind of Stockholm syndrome? Secondly - and most important of all - is that after all this kissing and flirting, Alexander still has no idea what Thomas thinks of him. Sure, he could always suck it up and just ask the man (that was probably the easiest approach) but he’s so scared to mess up the growing friendship between them by getting rejected, that the very thought of admitting how deep he is in, makes Alexander’s stomach tighten with anxiety. He decides that, although it might be easier, asking Thomas how he feels is the worst plan of action, especially considering that Alex doesn’t want to choose between Thomas and E****. (He’s not going to think about her.)

For the first time in his life, Alexander will willingly admit that he’s in over his head. He’s bit off way more than he can chew. He’s got too much on his plate; too many irons in the oven. It doesn’t really matter which idioms he uses, because in the end they all mean the same thing: he’s royally fucked himself over. (again)

He turns his attention to the disinfectant wipes that Mary left. Alex pulls one out and begins to wipe down every possibly-germ-infested surface that he sees. Thomas must have plugged his phone into the kitchen speaker, because as soon as Alexander grabs a second wipe, a song begins to stream through the room. 

It takes Alexander a second to place the song, and when he does, he drops the wipe in his hand and lets out a startling loud laugh, “Billy Joel, really? Here I was thinking that you only listened to shitty music.” Alexander says teasingly. Alex doesn’t mean it, he’s just so used to Thomas’s posh and pretentious classical music that the change in tone surprises him. 

“Fuck you very much, and this is an amazing song.” Thomas replies with a grin, and then he’s walking behind Alexander. “Dance with me.” He says, offering his hand to Alex. 

Alexander stares at the open palm and bites his lip. At once he gives in and, rolling his eyes, he places his hand in Thomas’s larger one. The man draws him in tight again his body and let’s one of his hands rest on Alex’s hip. The other one tightly grasps his hand as they press closer together. Thomas starts to rock them back and forth, and Alexander closes his eyes. He focuses on the soft piano and the way Thomas’s hand feels in his.

The scene feels so eerily domestic that Alex thinks his heart might explode. He’s falling, fast and far, and he can only pray that someone will catch him before he hits the rude awakening at the bottom.

Alexander is snapped out of his mind when Thomas twirls him. The motion effectively pulls a chuckle from his lips, and then Alex is immediately reaching back for Thomas’s shoulder with his free hand. He listens to the ending piano notes, and on impulse, leans up to kiss the other man. Thomas’s lips are warm against his own, and Alex can’t help but smile against the other man’s lips. They only kiss for a few seconds, and then Alexander’s phone is ringing and he has to pull away. 

His first thought is something like, “ _ Oh my god Eliza _ .” but then he glances at the screen and sees Lafayette’s caller ID. He’s confused as to why the French man would be calling him, and then he remembers. 

James Madison’s party. Overhearing Thomas and James’s conversation. The fight with Thomas. The Bar. Washington. Alexander’s inability to keep his mouth shut when he’s drunk.

Lafayette is finally returning his phone call, and Alex is going to have to explain what he did. 

He shows the screen to Thomas, who nods and kisses his forehead. Alexander almost dies right then and there. 

“Do you want me to leave? You know, if you want to have some privacy.” Thomas asks from his spot in front of the cabinet. He’s almost halfway through with the groceries they need to finish putting away, and Alexander doesn’t want to make him pause. Plus, it’s not like there is anything he has anything to say that Thomas can’t here. “No, you’re good.”

Alexander slides his thumb across the screen and holds the phone up to his ear, “Hello.”

“Mon ami, your voice sounds like a thousand weeping angels on a sunny Saturday morning.”

Alexander stares at the fridge, unmoving for a moment. He’s not sure why the greeting surprised him, nobody has ever said that Lafayette has good similes, “Uhm. Thanks? I think. Although weeping angels would probably be sad, I’m going to take it as a compliment.”

Lafayette laughs, loud and genuine, on the line, “Oh Alexander,” He emphasizes the name with a thick accent, “Of course it’s a compliment. Hearing your voice is like a dehydrated man seeing water for the first time in days. I miss you so much.” He pauses, “John told me that you were feeling very sad yesterday.”

“I miss you too, and I was. I just felt really alone, but he helped clear everything up. I just miss you all like crazy.” Alexander admits. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas glance up to look at him, but he keeps his eyes focused elsewhere.

Lafayette is quiet for a moment, “We all miss you very much too, mon ami. You’re never alone though. Is Thomas taking care of you? Is he treating you right?”

Alex glances up at the other man, who abruptly looks away when he makes eye contact with Alexander, “Thomas is taking care of me. He’s been nothing but accommodating since we’ve arrived.”

“And have you two fallen madly in love yet?”

Damn, he forgot how easy Lafayette could read him. Alexander twists a strand of hair around his finger and sighs, “One of us has.” He says vaguely, so that Thomas won’t catch on to what he’s imply. 

“ _ Oh _ mon ami.” and really, the last thing he wants - besides Thomas’s inevitable rejection - is Lafayette’s pity. 

He quickly changes the conversation,“Regardless, there is a reason I asked you to call.” Alexander begins. He’s not sure what the best way to pull the band aid off is. “I have something I need to tell you.”   
  
“And what is that, my dear?”

Like his mother used to say, the faster you pull of the band aid, the less it hurts. “I told Washington you were in love with him.” He spits out the entire sentence in one quick breath and then listened to the silence on the other end. 

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds. 

“You  _ what _ ?” Lafayette replies after a long time. He doesn’t sound angry, just exhausted. 

“I can explain.” Alexander says, “I got in a fight with Thomas and then I went to a bar and got really drunk and I saw Washington. I remember asking him if he thought I was oblivious and he spouted some Yoda shit about not knowing when people have feelings for you and I may have mentioned that he of all people should know that, and then when he asked why I told him.” Alexander explains,  “I’m so sorry.”

He hears a deep sigh on the other end of the phone and then Lafayette laughs - it sounds painstakingly bitter, “Well I suppose it’s about time he found out. Maybe he won’t believe it. You did say you were pretty drunk.”

Alexander hums in agreement, deciding right then that he’d keep the rest of the night to himself, that he’d keep that moment in the car - the one right before Alex left - to himself. 

_ “Thanks Wash.” Alexander murmured as he opened the car door. He froze when he felt the man’s arm reach out and grab his wrist. _ __   
__   
_ “Lafayette,” Washington started slowly and Alexander turned to face him. _ __   
__   
_ “What about him?” _ __   
_   
_ __ Washington looked at him for a second before shaking his head - seemingly dismissing the idea, “Nothing.” he seemed to close the subject.

He has no idea what was and is going through Washington’s head in regards to whatever feelings Lafayette might have for him, and there’s no way he’s going to give one of his closest friends false hope. Alexander can only hope that Washington figures out whatever the hell he needs to figure out so that Lafayette can stop getting  _ crushed _ . (Yes, he does see the irony in hoping Washington does that.)

He’ll never forget the first day - of many - that Washington had unintentionally shattered his friend’s heart. Washington had came into class all bright smiles and encouraging words. Alex could see the reflection of his behavior in Lafayette’s. That, unfortunately, had only lasted until Washington admitted why he was in such a good mood. 

_ “I’ll see you after class. Burr mentioned something about a debate in the quad, so I might go kick some ass there.” Alexander said, his grip tightening on Eliza’s hand.  _

_ She smiled at him kindly, “Please do take it easy on them, my love. Not everyone has your way with words.”  _

_ Alexander laughed, his smile growing when he saw the adoration in his girlfriend’s eyes, “I’ll try my hardest to make it a fair fight.” He murmured, “I love you.” _

_ She leaned up to kiss his lips softly, “I love you too.” and then she was walking away, blue notebook clutched against her chest and a bounce in her step.  _

_ Alexander shook his head and entered Washington’s room with a lighthearted smile on his lips.  _

_ “Good evening, Alexander.” The professor greeted him. Alexander nodded back at him, a little surprised by the greeting. Washington looked different. Happier somehow? Alexander couldn’t explain it.  _

_ He shrugged and took his seat in the second row next to Lafayette and John Laurens. “Do you see it, Alex?” Lafayette had asked him, an almost dopey smile on his face.  _

_ “See what?” He asked absentmindedly as he pulled out his laptop and began to boot it up.  _

_ “Washington!” Lafayette said, “You must notice how happy he looks. How refreshed he looks.” _

_ He glanced up from his laptop screen to look at his professor. Washington wasn’t an old man - he had just turned thirty six this year, making it a twelve year age difference between Lafayette and him - but he somehow looked even younger. His forehead wrinkles were less prominent, and he had a relaxed smile on his face.  _

_ “I suppose he does.” Alexander commented, “What’s he so happy about?” _

_ Lafayette shrugged, his smile growing and his cheeks flushing red when Washington caught his eye.  _

_ Their question was answered when Charles Lee (that fucking dick) raised his hand and asked why Washington was so happy.  _

_ Washington - the oblivious idiot - had shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled an impishly boyish grin, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I went out on a date last night.” _

_ Alexander glanced at Lafayette in concern and saw the smile on his face freeze. It became stiff in the corners, and his eyes glazed over just enough for Alex to see how truly hurt he was. Alexander saw the pain in his eyes, and he knew that Lafayette was barely keeping his shattered self together. Alex reached over to place his hand on Lafayette’s arm and frowned when he noticed Washington’s eyes follow the movement. Lafayette closed his eyes and sank into Alexander’s embrace.  _

_ It wasn’t until that next morning that John had texted Alexander and told him that he was up all night listening to Lafayette’s sobs.  _

He’s not going to be responsible for that kind of heartbreak ever again. 

“John’s here.” Lafayette says through the phone, interrupting his thoughts and he wonders how long he’s been silent. “I’ve got to go, but don’t beat yourself up over this Alex. We all know you can’t hold your liquor.” His voice has taken on a teasing note at the end, and Alexander feels less guilty than before. 

“You know how much I love you right?” Alex asks, “I love you so much, Lafayette, words cannot describe the affection I feel for you. I miss you so fucking much.” He glances at Thomas and notices the grief stricken look on the man’s face, it makes him swallow painfully. 

“Very cute, Alexander. I love you just as much, mon amour, but I really must be going.”

Alexander smiles, “Okay, tell John I said hi.”

“I will. Goodbye, mon ami.”

“Later.” Alexander ends the call and drops his phone onto the kitchen table. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, a few tangles slowing his movements, and turns back to face Thomas. The man’s not looking at Alexander, instead his face is focused on wringing out the extra water from the mop. His face is a blank mask of concentration that makes Alexander think back to the previous grief stricken look he saw. 

“Everything okay?” Alexander asks because the thought of upsetting the Virginian leaves a burning feeling in his chest. 

Thomas glances up from the floor and looks at Alex. “Of course. Everything’s fine.” There’s a believable enough smile on his face, but Alexander can tell that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Two weeks ago and Alex wouldn’t have questioned it. He can’t help but wonder when he started accurately reading the man’s facial expressions. The realization almost scares him. 

“Thomas.” He deadpans, hoping and praying that the man will let down those crazy emotional barricades. He internally pleads that Thomas will raise his portcullis and let Alexander inside. He needs to know that as much as Thomas is there for him, he’s there for Thomas too. 

Thomas smiles softly and murmurs,“Alexander.”

“Well, I’m here if something’s bothering you.” Alexander explains, “You can talk to me.”

Thomas sets the mop down, letting the handle lean against the cabinet Alex had just wiped down. The man walks over and gently grabs Alex by the chin. His thumb is pressed against the front of Alex’s chin, and his index and middle finger curled underneath his jaw. Thomas’s dark eyes search Alexander’s own, and he feels himself swallowing with trepidation. 

“I know.” Thomas replies, his voice nothing but a soft whisper. Alexander can feel the man’s breath blow against his face. He leans up and connects their lips in a subdued kiss. It only lasts a second, and then Alexander’s lowering himself and staring at the smile Thomas sends his way. 

“We should go pick up the booze,” Alexander says, the words leaving his mouth like a groan. He wants nothing more than to reach up on his toes and kiss the man again, but they really do need to pick up the alcohol before Mary gets back. 

Thomas - who seems to be struggling with the same problem as Alex - bends down and pecks him gently on the lips again before standing up and nodding. “Yeah, we probably should.”

He reaches out and grabs Thomas’s hand, their fingers curling together like puzzle pieces, and smiles up at him. “Lead the way.”

The ride to the liquor store is mostly quiet. They’re in John’s old pickup truck, windows down, and playing a throwback Pandora station; Alex listens closely as Thomas hums quietly under his breath. They don’t talk much, but Thomas keeps his free hand resting on the middle of Alexander’s thigh, so he really doesn’t have room to complain. 

It reminds him of a day many, many months ago. The day Eliza and he had drove upstate so he could properly be introduced to her father. They weren’t quite officially dating at the time, but Alexander was already head over heels in love with her. He’s always been one to fall fast.

_ Alexander was sitting driver’s side in Eliza’s light blue Jeep. They had decided to take the doors off for their trip to Albany, and as a result, Eliza’s long dark hair whipped around her hair ferociously in the wind. Alexander - whose long hair was tied back for that specific reason - couldn’t stop sneaking peeks of her out of the corner of his eye.  _

_ They were listening to some shitty pop music that Eliza had persuaded him into playing. She was sitting relaxed in the seat next to him, eyes wide and legs propped up on the dash with a smile on her face.  _

_ Alexander reached over and let his hand rest on her thigh, just below the hem of her sea foam dress. Her small hands covered his and he couldn’t help the rush of butterflies in his stomach.  _

It’s different with Thomas. Maybe it’s because he’s more mature now. He’s outgrown that idyllic idea of love he used to have. The idea of love he had with John and Eliza. 

Or maybe it’s because Thomas is like no one else he’s ever loved. He’s a startling enigma. At one moment, Alexander hates him. Hates his shitty political opinions, hates his annoying personality, hates everything about him. The next moment, he’s blinded by how much love he has for him. Alexander didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as he loves Thomas. It’s that sweet kind of love, burning slow like an ember blown out of a fire by the wind. 

He has long since outgrown his illusions about love. He knows that happy endings are hard to come by, but there’s always an exception. Alexander can’t help but wonder if Thomas is his exception. 

When he looks down and sees Thomas’s hand resting on his thigh, there are no butterflies, no sweaty palms, and no nerves. He feels nothing but content affection. Nothing but adoration and love. 

“You got the list, right?” Thomas asks as he shifts the car into park and pulls the keys from the ignition. 

Alexander pulls the folded sheet of paper from his back pocket and hands it to the man sitting next to him, “Yeah.”

He follows Thomas into the liquor store, and cheers internally when Thomas immediately reaches out and intertwines their fingers. He’s entirely grateful for the physical contact, and he squeezes the other man’s palm as they walk up to the register. 

“Can I help you?” A woman with bright orange lipstick asks from behind the counter. She has short curly ombre hair. Brunette at the roots and blended into a deep purple. 

Thomas smiles at her, “We’re here to pick up our kegs. Three large ones.”

The girl glances down at a piece of paper and flips it several times, her finger running across the paper. “Yes, right here. I’ll have Mel bring them out to your vehicle. They are one of the only ones who can lift the damn things. Which vehicle is yours?”

Thomas points to John’s rusty pickup truck through the window and the woman nods, “Alright. Grab anything else you want to purchase and then I’ll ring you up.” 

She disappears to the back, and Alexander begins helping Thomas pick out the rest of the alcohol they need. He grabs a bottle of red for Dolly (He’s actually quite excited to see her again, especially since their conversation at Madison’s party was cut short.) Thomas adds a few bottles of gin, and Alexander screws his face up in distaste.    
  
The last time he had gin didn’t end very well. He thinks about freshman year, getting drunk off gin and then making out with Lafayette in Burr’s room, only to fall in the bathroom and fracture his elbow. 

They take the cart full of alcohol to the register and let the woman ring up their total. The price makes Alexander choke on his tongue. Thomas just smirks at him and slides his debit card across the glass counter for her to swipe. Even after living in Monticello for two weeks (and getting a tour of the fucking gardens) Alexander still hasn’t been able to grasp just how much money the Jeffersons - and Thomas himself - have. 

He can’t help but think about the differences between the Jeffersons and him. They never flinch at the bill of their takeout. In fact, now that he thinks about it, they never really seem to think about the bill. Can they really be  _ that  _ rich, that they don’t even have to bother looking at the receipts?

Alexander supposes that it’s extremely likely. Thomas did, in fact, offer him six thousand dollars for doing almost nothing. The thought makes him roll his eyes. 

“Have a good day, and come again!” The girl behind the counter calls after them as they leave the store, arms filled with bags of booze. They both wave the best they can and begin to load the bags into the car. Mel has already loaded the kegs and Thomas thanks them before climbing into the truck and pulling away. 

They get back to the house about the time that Aida is supposed to arrive. Alexander loads his hands up with as many bags as he can carry, the glass bottles clinking together as he walks into the house. 

Mary’s in the living room, her hair pulled back and an excited look on her face. “Thank God you’re here. Bottles of booze go on the kitchen table. One keg in the living room, one in the kitchen, and one in the backyard.”

Alexander just nods, determined not to add to the amount of stress she must have. He enters the kitchen and begins pulling bottles out of the bag and sitting them down on the table. 

He’s one bag in when Thomas and John enter the kitchen carrying the keg. “Right over there.” Alexander points to an empty section of the room. “Mary said one in the living room and one in the backyard too.”

The two men sit the keg down and Thomas reaches over to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Okay.” 

He knows the gesture was just for show, but it makes his cheeks flush anyway. 

Mary enters the kitchen in a whirlwind of energy. “Aida’s here with the food. We need to set out the cups. Where are the cups?”

She sends Alexander to the closet, and he comes back with an armful of red solo cups and two packages of mixed nuts. 

They organize them next to the bottles of alcohol on the table and then she stands back and puts her hands on her hips. 

“Well Alexander,” Mary says with a charming grin, “Are you ready for your first infamous Jefferson party?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they dance to in the kitchen is Vienna by Billy Joel
> 
> Up Next: The Party


	18. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter, but you all have waited long enough. I'll go back and edit more at a later date. Thank you for being so patient with me. School has me stressed beyond belief. Hope you're all doing well <3
> 
> Come tell me how you're doing on tumblr: willieverbesatisfied

Mary ushers the two of them upstairs after requesting that they change into something that she can be seen with them in. Alexander actually agrees with her, mostly because he is still in his sweatpants. Thomas - who’s looking more like an Adonis than usual - just rolls his eyes and scoffs, but after a pouting look from Alex, he concedes and follows the other man up the stairs.

Alexander is, for once, actually looking forward to the party. The last college party he went to didn’t end the greatest. He’s still a little angry at John that he had to throw his favourite shirt away. There was just no way that he was going to be able to get the bloodstains out. Believe him, he had tried.

Alexander enters Thomas’s bedroom first, and he physically cannot help himself from spinning around and kissing the other man. He spins around and catches Thomas’s hand with his. He pulls the Virginian closer and leans up on the tip toes of his feet to press his lips against Thomas’s.

This is their what? Fiftieth kiss in the span of less than three weeks? But, my God, each time their lips touch, Alexander is flooded with this sense of adoration, this sense of love and affection. Thomas’s lips move softly against his own, gentle and just slightly chapped.

Alexander pulls away with a breathy smile, and just barely resists the urge to lean back up and capture his lips again. They’ve got a party to get to, after all.

The party doesn’t technically start until nine, but people start pulling into the driveway at a quarter after eight. Alexander had just stepped out of the shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, when he sees the first call pull into the driveway from Thomas’s window.

He rubs his skin dry with the towel and then slides into his favourite pair of worn jeans, and an emerald green tee shirt that John gave him for their three year friendiversary. He attempts to soak up the moisture from his hair with the towel, but it’s not quite as effective as he had hoped.

He towel dries it the best he can, and the runs his fingers through the long brown strands in a measly attempt to tidy it up.

A knock on the door pulls him away from his attempts to look presentable, and he turns to watch Thomas slip inside.

“Why are people showing up so early?” Alexander asks, as he smothers his face in one of the many moisturizers that Thomas leaves lying around. (Like literally lying around, Alex had tripped over one getting out of bed earlier)

Thomas sits down at the edge of his bed and rubs his fingers over his face, “Mary just tells everyone an approximate time, and they just start showing up around then. She usually tells everyone a different time, so that the waves of people are more spread out.”

Alexander walks over and drops onto the bed next to him. “I’m assuming that means that the first wave is coming right about now?”

Thomas looks over at him, his face still bent over his lap, and nods his head. Alexander smiles for no particular reason and scoots closer to his fake boyfriend. “We should probably head down there, shouldn’t we?”

Thomas rolls his eyes but stands up anyways. They’re about out of the room, when Thomas pushes Alex against the door. They stare at each other for a second, and then Thomas’s lips are covering his own. Alexander pushes up against him, his fingers curling around Thomas’s back and attempting to pull him closer.

The back of his head bumps against the door, and it’s just enough to pull Alexander from the moment. His outside exterior cracks and a laugh forces itself out of his throat. Thomas pulls away, a little confused, and Alexander lets his head fall against the other man’s chest.

“Oh my God,” He says staccato between laughs, “Fuck, that _hurt_.” He wheezes, laughing at his own stupidity.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asks him, his own voice sounding higher, and Alex knows that he’s trying to hide his laughter.

Alexander bites his lip, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just a sign that we should go downstairs.”

“But I’d much rather stay up here with you.” Thomas actually pouts, and Alexander can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks. He prays that it’s dark enough outside, and in Thomas’s room, that the man won’t be able to see it.

“We can’t play beer pong if we stay in your room the whole day, and you know how much I love seeing you drunk.” Alexander reasons, although with the way Thomas’s body is still pressing him up against the door, he’s half tempted to say “fuck it,” and lock themselves in here for the rest of the night.

“Fuck,” Thomas groans, his hips pushing forward a fraction of an inch, “You’re right.” He sighs, pulling away from Alexander and opening the door.

“If you’d listen to me more, you’d find that I’m almost always right.” Alexander says cheekily, and Thomas rolls his eyes so hard that Alex swore he could hear it.

He still reaches out and grabs Alexander’s hand, so Alex really can’t complain.

They walk down the stairs hand in hand, and Alexander’s gaze catches on the photograph of James Madison and Thomas that sits at the top. But before he can get jealous, Thomas is slinging his arm around Alexander’s shoulder and all he can focus on is the butterflies that erupt in his stomach.

Alex’s jaw drops a fraction of an inch when his foot his the last stair. Somehow, in the span of a few hours, Mary had completely revamped the house. There are white lights strung up around the room, lights flashing, music pounding so loud that the floor is actually shaking. Alexander doesn’t recognize the song, but he can appreciate the bass that floods through the room.

It hasn’t even been an hour since Alex saw the first call pull in, and the house is already stuffed with people. He can’t help but wonder if the Jeffersons know all of them, or if the word of a house party just gets around that fast.

“Let’s get a drink?” Thomas suggests and Alexander nods, letting him lead the way to the kitchen. They’re walking through the hallway between the living room and the kitchen, when a tall man with short curly hair stops them.

“Thomas!” The man says, and extends his hand.

Thomas’s face lights up happily and he shakes the extended hand, “Edmund! It’s nice to see you. I thought Mary said you weren’t going to make it.”

Edmund smiles, his teeth gleaming in the dark, “I didn’t think I was going to, but my flight got in earlier than expected.” The man turns to Alexander and extends his hand. Alexander shakes it and smiles, “Edmund Randolph, I believe we had Mr. Revere’s class together?”

And that’s why he looks so familiar! Alexander’s smile becomes much more genuine, “Alexander Hamilton, and I do believe we did. It’s nice to see you again.”

“It was nice seeing you both. I’ve got to go find Abigail, but we’ll have to catch up sometime.” Edmund nods his head at the both of them, and then turns around and disappears through the doorway.

“Come on; I need a shot.” Thomas says with a laugh, and pulls him forward.

The kitchen is just as packed as the living room, and they have to step over a couple that’s making out on the floor just to reach the table of booze.

“Pick your poison.” Thomas asks, as he gestures to the table stocked full with bottles. Alexander assumes that people are bringing booze with them, and just adding it to the table.

“One shot of tequila please.”

Thomas grabs two plastic neon shot glasses from the counter and fills them to the brim with the most expensive bottle of tequila on the table. He hands one to Alexander and they toast their shot glasses together. “Cheers.” Thomas says with a grin.

Alex throws the shot back, the crisp alcohol burning his throat on the way down. He resist the urge to show the unpleasantness on his face and instead he reaches for a lime off the counter.

“Yo, Madison! You still owe me twenty bucks!” Alexander hears a man yell from the other room, as James Madison walks into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Blair.” James yells back, but he’s got a smile on his face. The smile widens when he spots Alexander and Thomas.

“Just the people I was looking for.” James says when he’s finally close enough to speak to them, “We’re playing beer pong and we need two more people. Y’all wanna play?”

Alexander looks at Thomas and shrugs, “I’m in.”

“Sounds good.” Thomas agrees, “Are you ready to kick ass, James?”

Madison raises an eyebrow, “Sorry Thomas, but I already called dibs on being Hamilton’s partner.”

The expression on Thomas’s face pretty much sums up what Alexander’s feeling. “Fine. Who’s,my partner?”

“Dolley,”

Thomas nods and walks ahead of the two other men. “Thomas has never lost a game. His ego is becoming painful. We have to beat him.” Madison whispers conversationally.

Alexander chuckles, “Deal.” He’s not sure if that’s the real reason Madison wanted to be partners with him, but he’s not going to question it right now. Right now: he’s going to kick his fake boyfriend’s ass at beer pong.

The table is all set up when they reach the other room, and Thomas immediately kisses Dolley’s cheek as Alexander and Madison take the other side of the table.

They eventually heard John Bowling over and convince him to be the referee, because nobody really trusts Alexander or Thomas to play fairly.

“Do I need to go over the rules, or are both teams ready?” John announces loudly.

“Let’s play!” Alexander says, clapping his hands together and laughing when Thomas demands they go over the rules so that there are no “grey areas”.

“Get the ball in the cup, and the other team has to drink the beer. Let’s play.” John says, tossing the ball at Alexander.

“Alright, Hamilton. You’ve got this.” Madison tells him as Alex gets into position. He takes a deep breath and flicks the ball out of his hand. It soars for a second before plopping carelessly into the cup closes to Thomas.

“Nice shot, Ham.” Madison says, giving him a high five, and Alexander has to wonder how many drinks the man’s had already.

Thomas rolls his eyes and downs the cup of beer without complaint. “Don’t get cocky now, Alex dear.” He says and then the ball plops into the cup before Alexander.

He scoffs but tips the cup back easily.

It’s during the end of round two - the final round  - that Alexander feels the alcohol beginning to go to his head. His face feels flushed and his body is much more fluid than usual. They’re down to one cup each, so whoever hits the next shot wins.

Alexander watches as James carefully lines up his shot. He flicks his wrist, and like a movie, the ball falls into the remaining cup on the other side of the table.

He turns to James, and captures the man in a one arm hug. The small group that had surrounded them at the beginning of the round cheers loudly, and claps them on the backs.

Alexander watches as a sulking Thomas drains the last cup. It’s as Alex is watching this, that he sees a familiar figure slip into the room. His body freezes as he looks at her.

Out of everyone that would show up to a Jefferson party, Alexander didn’t expect that he’d see her. Alexander didn’t even know she was invited.

She glances up and Alexander finds himself staring into the warm brown eyes of Martha Wayles, the ex girlfriend of the man he’s in love with.

  
Oh, and the man he’s fake dating.

Like a train crash, Alexander watches in slow motion, unable to do anything, as Thomas’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes at Alexander and turns his head to look over his shoulder.

Alexander can see the moment that Thomas sees Martha, because he sits the red solo cup down on the table and begins walking towards her. She smiles a one thousand watt smile and accepts a hug from him. Alexander watches as she presses a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“There’s no reason for you to be jealous.” Madison is suddenly whispering to him. “Martha and Thomas are just friends. They broke up for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, Thomas said that they were better as friends.” Alexander replies, keeping his eyes on the pair.

“And they are. It’s no different than you and John Laurens.”

Alexander supposes that’s a perspective he hadn’t thought of. “I guess you’re right.” Alexander murmurs, “Thanks James.” He excuses himself polietly and makes his way towards the pair.

“Alexander!” Martha greets him when he steps up beside the two of them. She grabs his hand and pulls him into a hug. “Thomas was just talking about you! How could you not tell me that you two were dating!” Martha exclaims, her dark purple lips spreading into a smile. “I knew you guys would end up together. The sexual tension was so overpowering!”

Alexander blames his flush on the alcohol in his system. He doesn’t really know how to respond to that, so he instead offers to get her a drink. She smiles kindly at him, accepts, and takes his offered hand. Alexander pulls her in the direction of the kitchen, turning back for a second the nod at Thomas.

It’s not even twenty minutes later that Alexander is standing in a group of about six, downing shots of an alcohol he can’t remember. It takes like dog shit though. The alcohol burns his throat like fire, and he chases it down with a red solo cup of beer that Martha had offered him. It’s around this time, that Alexander realizes he is no longer sober. His hair is a mess (probably from the keg stand he did not five minutes ago) and the room is spinning just a little.

He stumbles a little, thankful to the guy next to him for stopping him from hitting the floor, and turns to look around the room. He hasn’t seen Thomas since Martha showed up, and he’s starting to miss the other man.

“Where’s Thomas?” He slurs, his voice only barely revealing his lack of sobriety.

“Yo Ham, we’re playing spin the bottle!” A girl yells at him from across the kitchen. He’s never been overly fond of party games, but he supposes it’s a way to pass the time.

  
He walks to the living room, and looks at the small group of people that are assembled in the vague outline of a circle. He spots Thomas sitting on the couch, a man Alexander doesn’t recognize sitting at the opposite end. He stumbles towards the couch, almost tripping over the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle, and plops down next to his boyfriend, er… fake boyfriend.

“Are you enjoying yourself, darlin’?” Thomas drawls lowly. His voice is deep and rough, and while Alexander knows that he’s not drunk, he’s definitely not as sober as he looks.

Alex presses a gentle kiss to the side of his cheek, and then lets his head drop to the man’s shoulder, “I’m having an amazing time, Thomas.”

The girl whose holding the bottle turns to the two of them, “Are y’all playing?”

Alexander nods enthusiastically, and Thomas just shrugs.

She claps her hands together and smiles, “Great!”

Alex lets his gaze flirt around the circle, and notices a few people he recognizes. He sees James Madison and Dolley Payne sitting together across from them, Edmund is on their right, Martha is chatting with a girl who sits beside a guy that Alexander is pretty sure was in his Math class last year. The rest are faces that he’s never seen before.

“Are Madison and Dolley like _a thing_?” He asks, leaning up to whisper into Thomas’s ear.

Thomas looks up from Alexander’s face, and narrows his eyes at the couple across the circle from them. James is sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, probably the most casual pose Alex has ever seen him in. Dolley is next to him, her body turned to face him.

“I know James is quite charmed by her. I don’t know if it’s official or anything.” Thomas says quietly.

Alexander glances away from the two to look at the man sitting next to him, “They’d be good together.”

Thomas reaches down and intertwines their hands together, his thumb tracing back and forth on the top of Alexander’s knuckles. It sends electric pulses of affection and love straight to his heart.

He snuggles up closer to Thomas’s side, and waits patiently for his turn to spend the bottle. A few people he’s never seen before kiss, and then Dolley kisses the girl sitting on the opposite side of Martha, a few more people kiss, and then the girl who seems to be running the game, gestures at Thomas to spin.

The bottle lands on a girl that Alex is almost positive is the daughter of a Senator. He stands from the couch and pecks her lightly on the lips. The girl in question seems a little too excited by the kiss and Alex can barely contain his eye roll. Thomas comes back and sits down next to Alexander once more. Thomas wraps his arm around the back of the couch and gestures for Alexander to spin the bottle.

“Spin it for me, would you?” He asks the blonde girl closest to the center. She nods and spins it. Alexander holds his breath, and feels Thomas tense up next to him. It circles once, twice, three times, and eventually comes to a rest.

Alexander follows the neck of the bottle, and glancing up, makes eye contact with James Madison.

He feels Thomas relax instantly next to him. Kissing James isn’t the best option (which would be Thomas) but he’s surely not the worst. Alexander doesn’t think Madison feels the same way though. His normally stoic face is wearing an expression of wariness, his eyes focused on Thomas.

Alexander glances up at the man next to him, and watches as Thomas’s lips curve into a gentle smile. This seems to be some sort of unspoken language, because Madison nods and his previous expression vanishes from his face.

Alexander crawls across the floor, purposely missing the bottle in the middle, until he’s on the other side of the circle, a foot or two from his fake boyfriend’s closest friend.

James Madison is looking at him with an unreadable expression (no surprise there), and Alexander can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He leans forward slowly, watching through half closed eyes as Madison does the same, and eventually their lips meet.

The kiss is gentle and sweet. Alexander sighs happily (he’s always been fond of kissing) and presses in deeper. The kiss itself probably only lasts around ten seconds, and then Alexander is pulling away with a frown.

It’s not that kissing Madison was bad. It’s just that Madison isn’t the Southern Republican that he wants to be kissing.

God, if Alexander still had any doubts about his feelings for Thomas, they flew out the window the second his lips touched James’s. It’s clear as day now; he’s in deep.

He gives Madison a smile, and to his surprise, the Virginian returns it immediately.

Alexander stands up and walks back to the couch, stepping around all the people spread out on the floor.

He collapses in the seat next to Thomas, trying not to seem too pleased when the man pulls him close, and wraps his arms tightly around him.

Alexander looks up at the man he’s so madly in love with, and leans up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s languid and nice, the perfect kiss.

The alcohol is rapidly fleeing his system, leaving Alexander somewhere on the border of drunk and tired. His back aches from his earlier keg stand - he’s really getting too old for this - and he’s already beginning to feel the building pressure of his hangover behind his eyes.

“Are you ready to go to sleep, Alex?” Thomas murmurs gently in his ear, almost like the man could read his thoughts.

He burrows closer to the Virginian and nods, a barley concealed yawn escaping his mouth.

Thomas pushes him off his lap and then grabs his hand to help him stand. They say goodbye to the people in the general area that Alexander knows (Martha, Dolley, Madison), Madison stops Thomas for a second to whisper something into his ear, and then Thomas is half pulling, half pushing him up the stairs.

“Get ready for bed. I’ve got to go speak with James and then I’ll be up, okay?” Thomas whispers, his eyes shinning in the dark. Alexander knows that Thomas is probably relatively sober at his point, so he figures that he should listen to the man’s instructions.

“Okay,” Alexander murmurs, and pulls his shirt over his head. He tosses it onto the ground and looks back up at Thomas, whose about to leave the room.

“Please don’t kiss him.”

Thomas’s body freezes in the door frame, and he glances back over his shoulder at Alexander, “What?”

“Madison.” Alexander says, trying to make his point more clear, “Please don’t kiss him.”

He knows that he’s not getting his point across, but he can’t form the right words. Alex can only hope that Thomas will understand.

The Virginian’s mouth softens and he smiles, “I won’t.”

Alexander waits until Thomas leaves the room before he finishes stripping himself of his clothes. He changes his boxers, and decides to for go any other clothing. He doesn’t think he’d be able to dress himself anyways. Alexander hopes that Thomas doesn’t mind.

He stumbles into the bathroom and brushes his teeth, glad that the minty fresh feeling ebs away a little of his nausea.

He rinses the toothpaste down the drain, washes his hands, and then makes his way back into the bedroom.

Alexander falls down uselessly onto the bed and struggles to pull the comforter up around him. He’s exhausted, but he’s also determined to wait for Thomas to join him before he falls asleep.

It’s only a couple of minutes after he lies down that the door creaks open.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” Thomas whispers, as he enters the room.

Alexander looks up at the man he loves and sighs, “Sorry to disappoint.”

It earns him a small chuckle and the shake of Thomas’s head. Alexander lays still and watches as his fake boyfriend readies himself for bed. Thomas is eventually changed, and walks over to join Alexander in bed. The man slides in next to him, and Alexander immediately rolls closer and curls up against him.

Alexander glances up from beneath his lashes and smiles. He’s tired, but he’ll never be too tired to kiss Thomas Jefferson. He leans forward and connects their lips. It’s gentle at first, but there’s so much energy simmering beneath Alexander’s skin, that he soon presses in desperately.

Thomas’s tongue pushes into his mouth, and Alexander makes this wrecked sound in the back of his throat. They kiss desperately, and Alexander is pleased when Thomas rolls over and spreads his body on top of Alex’s. He feels hot all over. Thomas’s hands are everywhere: running up the sides of his body, twisting in his hair. His lips are everywhere too: kissing Alexander, depositing sweet kisses to his forehead, and then trailing hot kisses down his neck. He wants to do this. Alexander wants this so badly, that he literally can’t imagine anything he wants more. He wants Thomas more than anything. More than he wants to be president, more than he wants to make money, more than he wants to be remembered.

It’s dangerous and it’s scary, but it’s the truth, and not even Alexander can try to deny it.

But as much as he wants to do this, the alcohol is mostly gone from his body and Alexander feels exhausted to the bone.

Thomas kisses him again, still desperately, but Alexander kisses back softly. He draws the kiss out, making it more relaxed and languid. Thomas breaks away breathless, his dark brown eyes shinning into Alexander’s.

“We should get some sleep.” Thomas groans, his voice hoarse and deep. Alexander nods with a yawn, and rolls over to rest his head on the top of Thomas’s chest. He’s right on the edge of sleep, oblivion looming just in the distance.Thomas runs a gentle hand through Alex’s hair, and the smaller man makes a noise of pleasure. It’s a few seconds later that Alex whispers into the dark, “I’m so glad I’m here.”

Thomas presses a kiss to his hair, “I’m glad you’re here too, Alexander."

He hums contently, “Goodnight, Thomas. Alexander feels the Virginian’s arm pull him closer, his fingers still running the length of Alex’s hair. “Goodnight baby,” Thomas whispers softly, his voice a gentle kiss in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that you might be wondering why I included the James/Alexander kiss. It's just there to prove, once again, that Alexander doesn't want anyone but Thomas. 
> 
> Also Martha is a sweetheart. 
> 
> Up Next: The Repercussions


	19. The Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go! Please let me know what you think in the comments. They motivate me to get chapters out faster. 
> 
> I love you all so much!

Alexander breaths in deeply, a rush of fresh air filling his tired lungs. He scoots farther down into the bed, wrapping the comforter tighter and rolling onto his side so he can cuddle closer to the warm wall of heat next to him. He peeks out of his makeshift tent to gaze at the man next to him. Thomas looks so cute when he’s asleep. Alexander smiles, leaning over and brushing a curl out of the Virginian’s face. He curls closer to the unconsciousness man and lays his head on Thomas’s chest.

It’s as he’s laying there that pieces of last night begin to come back to him. Playing beer pong with James, seeing Martha, that God forsaken keg stand, spin the bottle, kissing _ James _ , telling Thomas not to kiss James, almost having sex with Thomas. 

Oh my God, he almost had sex with Thomas last night. 

A smile pulls at the corner of Alexander’s mouth and he tries to wipe his emotions off his face. Smiling too hard makes his head hurt. 

Thomas hums gently underneath him and Alexander stills. The other man opens his eyes and freezes, “Fuck.” Thomas groans and cover his eyes with the palm of his hand.

Alexander pulls back sharply. Had last night been some alcohol induced vision? Oh fuck, what if Thomas hadn’t actually wanted to have sex and was just going along with Alex out of pity? One hundred bad scenarios, and one thousand even worse ones run through Alexander’s head. The more Thomas lays there, frozen, the more the fear grasps at Alexander’s throat. 

“Thomas.” He whispers quietly. 

The other man uncovers his eyes and gives Alex a weak smile, “Can you be a lamb and shut the curtains for me?” Thomas then reaches over to the bedside table, slides open the drawer, and takes two small white pills. 

“Of course.” He nods and scoots to the edge of the bed. Alexander walks over and pulls at the curtains, sliding them over so they cover the windows. “Is your hangover really that bad? I didn’t think you drank that much last night.”

The thought brings up one hundred more even worse than before worries. What if Thomas was more drunk than Alexander had thought? What if he doesn’t remember anything?

“Don’t worry about it, Alex.” 

Alexander crosses the room and crawls back up onto the bed beside Thomas. He reaches out and gently touches the Virginian’s cheek, “What’s wrong?”

Thomas closes his eyes and seems to push into Alex’s hand. The butterflies in his heart start fluttering their wings and Alexander sighs happily. 

“It’s not a hangover. It’s a migraine.”

Alexander stops cold. He knows how bad Thomas’s migraines get. He knows how much pain they cause the other man. “Oh God Thomas, do you want me to get James?”

Thomas shakes his head lightly, “No, no.” He says, “It’s not too bad yet. Just- Will you just lay here with me?”

Alexander nods and lets the older man curl into him. Thomas’s head lays softly on his chest and Alexander lets his fingers cascade gently through the curls. He sits there frozen for ten minutes, maybe twenty, just listening to the soft sound of Thomas’s breathing. It’s once his breathing finally evens out, that Alexander reaches over and grabs his phone off the bedside table. 

He pulls open a new text message and texts a number he hasn’t used since Sophomore year, when they worked together in U.S Government to craft Federalist Paper inspired essays. 

_ To Jemmy Mads :  _ Hey it’s Alex. Thomas has a migraine, and I’m not sure how to help. Any tips?

James Madison reads the message almost immediately, and Alexander watches as three little dots appear in the corner of the screen. He waits patiently as James types. 

_ From Jemmy Mads:  _ If he’s taken his medication, then make sure he lays down someone dark and quiet. Make him drink some grape juice and sometimes massaging his head can help. Feel free to call if you need anything else. 

Alexander quickly skims through the message, and types out a reply. 

_ To Jemmy Mads:  _ Thanks Mads

Alexander presses send and locks his phone. He looks down at the man in front of him and carefully slips from beneath him. He rests Thomas’s head softly against the pillow. He trusts that the pills Thomas took earlier is the medication James had mentioned, but he figures he should get the man some grape juice. He doesn’t really know how juice helps a migraine, but he assumes that James probably knows what he’s talking about by now. He has been friends with Thomas since they were kids.

Alexander slips into a pair of sweatpants and one of Thomas’s sweatshirts. He leaves the room and makes sure to quietly shut the door behind him. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, and the second his foot hits the bottom step, Alexander’s mouth falls open in shock. 

The first thing he notices is the amount of trash in the room. Every surface is covered in red solo cups, cigarette buds, paper plates, and beer cans. Alexander takes a step forward and lets his eyes wonder. He hears a consistent pecking and his mouth falls open even further when he turns around and sees a chicken eating popcorn off the floor. 

“What the fuck.” He says out loud to particularly no one. 

“Excuse me,” A man says from behind him, and Alexander spins around to find a man wearing nothing but his boxers and a white tank top, covered in some type of purple liquid. His hair is sticking up in weird directions and he’s got a pair of rainbow crocks on his feet. 

Alexander stares after him for a few seconds before shaking his head and walking to the kitchen. It comes as no surprise that the kitchen is probably even worse than the living room. Alex grabs a clean solo cup from the table and pours in a fairly large amount of grape juice. 

He grabs an apple out of the fridge and sits down at the bar. He opens his phone and sends a snapchat of his face to John Laurens.

He hears the opening of a door and a few seconds later Mary appears in the doorway of the kitchen. She has mascara smeared down underneath her eyes, and her red lipstick is smudged across her cheek. She walks to the sink and drinks two large glasses of water. She turns to face Alexander and sighs. 

“Holy shit.” She groans, running her fingers over the sides of her face. Mary walks over and sits down in the seat beside him. “I can’t believe you made out with James Madison.”

Alexander huffs out a laugh, “I can’t believe there’s a chicken in your living room.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Did you hear the good news?” Mary asks him quietly, but he can sense her glee, “I think you were in bed when I asked.”

Alexander’s eyebrows furrow, “Asked what?”

Mary’s smile widened, “I’ll give you a hint. My  _ fiance  _ is still in bed.”

It takes him a second before he notices what she said. “Your fiance?” and then, “Oh my God, Mary you proposed?” He pulls her into a hug and despite their hungover state, Mary lets out a shrill laugh. “Congratulations. I knew he’d say yes.”

She presses a hand to her heart and smiles, “Thank you, Alex. I knew he’d say yes too, but it’s just- it’s different.” There’s a flush of red across her cheeks, “Maybe you and Thomas will be next!”

“Speaking of Thomas, I should probably go check on him. He’s got a migraine.” Alexander says quickly, immediately dodging her comment. It’s way too early to think about marriage, especially considering Thomas doesn't even like him. 

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation, Alex!” She calls after him, as he picks up the cup of juice and scrambles out of the kitchen. He glances at that stupid chicken that’s still in the living room as he ascends the stairs, and he can’t help the sigh that leaves his body. 

God, this family is nothing like he had expected. 

He stops at the top of the stairs and looks at the photograph of James and Thomas. He focuses on the joy that is portrayed, the joy that the two men must have felt at that time. Thomas looks genuinely happy, and Alexander can’t help but wonder when the last time Thomas looked that happy was. He hasn’t seen a smile like that directed at him since they met. 

Alexander thinks back to the first time he saw that photo. He remembers the awful jealousy that coursed through his veins at the closeness of the two men. The only thing he feels now is adoration for the man with the long curls. Adoration for the man he loves. 

He shakes his head and walks down the hallway to Thomas’s room. Just a few weeks ago and he would have been lost without a map, and now he can probably travel through the whole house blindfolded. He stops outside the door and knocks lightly, just to make sure Thomas is decent. He doesn’t hear a reply, so he twists the doorknob and enters the room. 

The lights are off and Thomas is still wrapped tightly under the sheets. He walks over and sets the cup down on the dresser next to the bed. 

“I was wondering where you went.”

Alexander jumps, a little shriek falling from his mouth, and his heart nearly stopping from his sudden scare. “What the hell, you scared the shit out of me, Thomas.”

The comforter pulls back just enough that Alexander can see the gorgeous eyes of his fake boyfriend. “Come here, I miss you.” Thomas whines, and it appears as though migraine Thomas is sweet. Alexander wouldn’t have known; he was always kicked out of the dorm whenever he’d get them before, or Thomas would go to James’s. 

Alexander sits down on the end of the mattress next to Thomas and turns to face him. Thomas peeks out from underneath the mattress, “Come closer. A kiss would probably make my head feel better.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Alexander laughs, but leans down to kiss the other man nonetheless. Thomas tangles his hand in Alex’s long hair and flips them effortlessly. Alex lands on his back, his breath being stolen from his lungs, with Thomas draped casually over him. 

Thomas leans back down to connect their lips and Alexander sighs into the kiss. Their lips meet again and again, breathless kiss after breathless kiss. Alex presses back up into Thomas, letting the Virginian’s body mold against his own. 

Thomas breaks away first to trail kisses down the side of Alex’s neck. “What about your head?” Alexander chokes out, his breath coming out harsh and staccato. 

The other man hums, “I feel as though you’re asking me to make an innuendo.”

Alexander laughs a little, but reaches out to cup the Virginian’s face. “I’m being serious.” He murmurs, eyes looking up into Thomas’s as his thumb runs the length of the older man’s lip. 

Thomas flashes him a smile and bends down to peck him gently on the lips. He hums happily against the other man’s lips before Thomas rolls over to the side of him. 

“I feel like we should help your sister clean up.” Alexander murmurs, rolling onto his side so he can face Thomas, “That is if your head isn’t too bad.”

Thomas presses a sweet kiss to Alex’s cheek, “Is the house that bad?” 

“There’s a chicken in your living room.”

Thomas pulls back to stare blankly into Alexander’s eyes. His face is frozen for a second, “You’re not kidding, are you?”

Alexander’s face spreads into a smile and he shakes his head, “No, there is literally a chicken in your living room.”

Thomas’s lips curve up in the corners and he sighs, “Well then. As much as I’d  _ love  _ to stay in bed with you all day, we should probably go help Mary.”

Alexander ignores the _stay in bed_ comment for the sake of his sanity and frowns, “Are you sure? How’s your head?”

“It’s much better. The meds and sleeping stopped it from getting too bad, so I’m okay. At least I’m good enough to pick up a couple red solo cups.”

Alexander’s smile grows, “Oh sweets, there’s a lot more than a couple.”

“Then we better get started then,”

It’s a few minutes later that Alexander and Thomas finally confront the mess that is Monticello. Mary has long since kicked out the remaining stragglers, and dragged John’s hungover ass out of bed. 

They’re standing in the living room, that God damn chicken running around their feet. Alexander’s clinging to Thomas and watches his face as Mary tell him about their engagement. 

“It’s about fucking time.” Thomas says with a laugh, and he reaches out to hug the both of them. 

“None of us are going to be getting married if mom get’s home and this place looks like this.” Mary jokes a second later, “I say we split the house up. You and Alex can take the kitchen, the living room, the den, and the downstairs bathroom. John and I will take the upstairs bathroom, the parlor, the patio, and the library. 

They all agree, and Alexander immediately begins working in the kitchen. He picks up solo cups, beer cans, plates with leftover cheese dip and throws them all into a large trash bag. Once the trash is collected, he wipes down all the surfaces that are covered in split soda, salsa, and other things that he doesn’t even want to know. He drags the empty keg to the front door and then begins to help Thomas with the living room. 

They finish cleaning a few hours later. Every piece of trash has been collected, every surface wiped down, every chicken removed. 

Alexander falls down onto the couch exhausted. He knows he should get up, knows there a several things he needs to do. (Finish his paper for Washington’s class, eat something, talk to Thomas about last night)

He doesn’t want to do any of those things though, so he snuggles down into the couch and yawns sleepily. It’s a few minutes later that Thomas and Mary join him in the living room. 

“I’m thinking today is a Disney movie kind of day,” Mary suggests as she sits down on the love seat. Thomas yawns, crawling up to lay beside Alexander on the couch. Alexander cuddles closer to him and nods, “That sounds good to me. I’m in the mood for Beauty and the Beast.”

Thomas murmurs in agreement from behind him. 

“Beauty and the Beast it is.”

Thomas is laying behind him, his arms wrapped around Alexander and their legs intertwined, effectively making Alex the little spoon. 

It’s during the movie that Alexander can’t help but compare his situation to the movie. Of course, Alexander wasn’t forced into his situation, but he still sees some similarities. Before they came to Virginia, Alexander had thought that Thomas was this beast. He had thought the man was a terrible person, an asshole. Alexander had hated him. 

But once he was forced to get to know the other man, Alexander discovered the kind hearted person beneath the outward asshole persona. It’s so strange to look back to the way he felt about Thomas before they came to Virginia. Alexander can’t believe that he ever hated the man as much as he did. But he supposes he never really knew the man. He had only known his asshole facade. 

He didn’t know the real Thomas. 

And now that he knows the real Thomas, it’s no surprise that he’s fallen head over heals for the Virginian. Even though it’s not surprising, doesn’t mean it’s not problematic. There are two main problems with his feelings for Thomas. The first is that he doesn’t know how Thomas feels. This is a point he keeps coming back to. After all they’ve been through in these three weeks, Alexander would like to think he can read Thomas, but he can’t. 

Not everything they do is for show now. The kisses aren’t always for show, and almost having sex twice definitly wasn’t for show either, but Alex isn’t stupid. Sexual attraction doesn’t mean anything. Just because Thomas might be interested in having sex with him, doesn’t mean Thomas is interested in having a relationship with him. 

Which brings him to the second problem. Alexander knows he’s in love with Thomas, but does he really want to be in a relationship with him rather than with Eliza? Does he really want to choose between Eliza and Thomas? 

The truth of the matter is that Alexander is in love with both of them. He’s in love with Eliza’s tenderness, her kindness, her genuine goodness. He’s in love with Thomas’s sarcasm, his Southern manners, and his charm. When he imagines his future, Alexander can see himself with both of them. 

He can picture Eliza and him strolling through the park with their young son. He pictures holding Eliza’s hand when he’s inaugurated for office. He pictures himself coming home and kissing her. He sees himself falling asleep beside her. 

But he sees himself with Thomas too. 

He sees Thomas and him adopting a little girl, he sees Thomas drinking one of those obnoxiously sweet coffees he likes, with a silver wedding band shining on his ring finger, he pictures Thomas helping coach little league, he sees Thomas wearing an annoying purple suit on the day they’re both inaugurated into office. 

He pictures Thomas holding his hand as they stare out at the sunset over the hills at Monticello. He sees them kissing under the Virginia stars. 

Alexander swallows heavily. It all feels like too much. He’s here in Virginia, with the man he loves wrapped around his body, and yet he’s never felt so distant. Thomas is so close to him, and yet so far away. They’re separated by miles and miles of miscommunication.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there, darlin?” Thomas whispers softly into his ear, his beard scratching pleasantly against Alexander’s neck. Alexander focuses his eyes on the screen, and tries to relax his muscles. He hadn’t even noticed how tense he had become when thinking. 

“Nothing important.” Alexander says flippantly. 

Thomas somehow scoots even closer, “Everything you think is important to me, Alexander.”

He swallows around the lump in his throat that Thomas’s words caused, “I promise it’s nothing, but that’s still sweet of you to say.” 

“Only the sweetest for you,” Thomas murmurs into his ear and Alexander closes his eyes. 

God, he’s so fucked.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The End


	20. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took so much longer than I wanted it to. Let me know what you think, okay?

Alexander steps out of the shower, his feet pressing into the soft padding of Thomas’s bathroom floor mat. He drags his fingers back through his wet hair, wringing out the extra water into the tub behind him. The mirror in the bathroom is fogged up and Alex steps forward to run his finger across the glass. He makes a fist and rubs it roughly across the mirror, clearing enough of a spot for him to see his own reflection. 

He blinks twice and bites his bottom lip. 

Today is the twenty-seventh. They leave for New York at noon. 

Alexander sighs and continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror. It’s only been three weeks, and yet he’s changed so much. They aren’t necessarily physical changes, although there are a few of those. His hair is a little longer, the dark circles under his eyes have lightened a bit, and he’s let his facial hair grow out a little bit. The majority of the changes he can’t see, but he can feel them. He feels as though he’s aged twenty years in three weeks. It’s not as though his spring break was physically stressful. He had no job or classes to attend, no reason to stay up until four in the morning finishing an essay. His stress was derived more from the constant worry of having to choose between lovers. Out of all the things he doesn’t want to do, choosing between Eliza and Thomas is number one on his list. 

He can’t help but wonder what the next forty-eight hours are going to hold for him. He can’t help but wonder if things are going to change once they get back to the city. Is Thomas still going to look at him the way he does, or will it go back to the way it was before? Alexander hopes that at the very least they can remain friends. He knows that he’ll probably never have Thomas the way he wants him - as a boyfriend that is, but the thought of Thomas hating him again makes Alexander feel sick to his stomach. 

His reflection frowns back at him and Alexander resists the urge to punch the glass. Things would be so much easier if he could just make up his damn mind. But, alas, he will never be satisfied. 

Alexander gathers his wet hair back and ties it in a dripping low bun. He wraps the towel tighter around his waist and reaches out to open the bathroom door. 

He steps into Thomas’s room and smiles at the view in front of him. Thomas is laid out on his stomach on the bed, shirtless and reading a lengthy book that Alexander can’t see the title of. He looks equal parts a dream and a nightmare; the muscles in his back contracting beautifully when he flips a page. 

If he can be honest with himself for a second, Alexander is kind of diasppointed they didn’t have sex. The last couple of nights had led Alex to believe there was a chance he could have a physical relationship with the Virginian. He supposes that it’s probably better that they didn’t though. He couldn’t imagine getting a taste of Heaven, and then having it all ripped away from him. Or worse, having Thomas physically but knowing he’d never have him emotionally. Alexander can only guess that the universe has finally given up whatever grudge it was holding and decided to start actually looking out for him. The thought makes him roll his eyes. 

He watches a few muscles ripple under dark skin and sighs. He knows it might be - definitely is - for the best, but it doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed. He’s bitter not blind. 

Alexander makes his way to the dresser by the door and pulls out a pair of Thomas’s sweatpants and a long sleeved sweatshirt. Stealing Thomas’s clothes is going to be another thing he’s going to miss once they go back to New York. He guesses that he could still sneak some things out of the Virginian’s dresser, but at this point he doesn’t even know if they’re still going to be on speaking terms once they return to the city. 

He dries his body off quickly and slips into the clean clothes. He keeps his gaze leveled at the back of Thomas’s head, willing the man to turn around and look. Alex knows he won’t. They have boundaries that haven’t been crossed yet, but it doesn’t stop him from hoping that the Virginian wants - at the very least - to see him naked. 

Alexander slides the shirt over his head and let’s the towel drop to the floor. He yawns, stretching his hands above his head. He crawls onto the bed with Thomas, straddling the man’s back and stretching his body across the one beneath him. Alex rests his chin on the other man’s shoulder and looks down at the book he’s reading. 

_ The Second Treatises of Civil Government _

Alexander smirks and folds himself tighter around the other man. “You know I’m writing a paper about John Locke for Washington’s class?”

Thomas looks up from his book and turns his head just enough to look at the smaller man whose head is resting on his shoulder. “Well you picked an outstanding person to write about.”

Alex hums lightly, and unable to stop himself, begins leaving a few open mouthed kisses on Thomas’s exposed neck. He feels the man shiver under him and Alexander reaches out and snaps Locke’s book closed. Thomas turns and captures Alexander’s mouth in his own. The Virginian flips his body so that he’s laying on his back and Alex is straddling his hips. Thomas pulls the elastic out of Alexander’s hair and tangles his fingers in the wet mop. It’s when Thomas makes a noise in the back of his throat that Alexander realizes that this is probably one of the last times that they’ll be together before they arrive back in New York. 

He locks his fingers around Thomas’s shoulders and flips them, so that the Virginian’s body is stretched out carefully over his own. Alexander pushes up into the kiss, unable and unwilling to pull back for even a second. His hands map out gentle paths on Thomas’s body, up his chest and toned stomach, across broad shoulders, down his sculpted back and stopping for a quick second to knead his fingers into the fine ass God blessed him with. 

Thomas makes a noise of pleasure from above him, the half groan-half moan being ripped from his throat. Alexander swallows it happily and allows himself to repeat the motion. Thomas’s hands are doing mapping of their own: trailing across Alex’s collarbone, gripping tightly in his hair, rubbing across his chest. A groan gets caught in his throat when Thomas bites down particularly hard on the area just below his ear. He arches his back, the mixture of pain and pleasure forcing a frustrated sob from his throat. He arches again when Thomas repeats the bite, only this time an inch to the left. Thomas fits one his knees between Alexander’s legs and he sighs, a loud and pleasant sound escaping from his mouth. 

Alexander trails his hands down the man’s stomach again, stopping only briefly at the top of Thomas’s waistband. He hesitates for a moment before running his fingertips down along the outside of Thomas’s sweatpants. He feels Thomas thrust his hips forward just a fraction and Alexander hisses with frustration. The Virginian makes a soft crooning sound in his ear and Alexander can only murmur in agreement. He’s just about to throw all caution to the wind and shove his hand down the other man’s pants, when they’re interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Wrap it up, boys,” John Bowling’s voice booms from outside the door, “Mary says she has a lot to discuss before you leave.”

Alexander lets his head fall back down against the bed. Thomas sighs disappointingly and drops his head into the crook of Alex’s neck. He pulls back a few inches to look into Alexander’s eyes. Thomas is a sight, a dark blush across his cheeks, pupils so dilated that Alex can only see a thin ring of their original colour. 

“We’ll finish this later,” Thomas murmurs softly as he presses a soft kiss to the corner of Alexander’s mouth. The promise lights his cheeks on fire and he can only manage a nod in return. Alexander slides off the bed and subtlety rearranges his pants, rolling his eyes at Thomas’s satisfied smirk. 

Alex follows Thomas down the stairs and he is thrown back to their first day at Monticello. He remembers how cold Thomas had acted towards him. It wasn’t any different then the way they acted back in New York, but compared to the way things are now… 

He knows that it was just because they didn’t really know each other. They’ve come so far since their days back in New York. Not only do they tolerate each other, but Alexander actually finds himself looking forward to spending time with Thomas. It could be, though, that he is in love with the man. He only wishes that Thomas felt the same way. 

Thomas reaches the bottom of the stairs and he turns to look over his shoulder. The motion is almost identical to a day not so long ago. Alexander remembers it specifically. He remembers the wind blowing lightly through his hair, the feeling of a storm approaching, the gentle pattering of rain against his bare skin. 

The way Thomas’s hair looked in the breeze. 

_ Alexander stared at the man, entraped by his beauty, grace, and knowledge. Thomas glanced over his shoulder to look at Alexander, and their eyes met. And that’s when Alexander knew. The moment their eyes meet, Alexander knew for sure.  _   
  
The day he realized he was in love with Thomas. Standing out in the grove looking at the Tulip Poplars and trying to come to terms with the feelings that slapped him like a brick to the face. 

It’s different now. He’s long since come to terms with the love he feels for the man in front of him. 

Alexander’s feet hit the bottom stair and Thomas holds out his hand. Alex fits his into Thomas’s and intertwines their fingers in a way that feels so much like coming home. It doesn’t scare him like it did before, now all he feels is happiness. 

“You ready, Alex?” Thomas asks and he’s frozen for a second because his name on Thomas’s tongue still sounds so bittersweet to his ears. 

Alexander finds himself smiling back up at the man, “As I’ll ever be.” he murmurs, squeezing Thomas’s hand gently as the man pulls him into the kitchen. 

As it turns out, the important matter that Mary needed to discuss was actually a large goodbye brunch. Alexander felt his eyes widen dramatically as he looked at the sheer amount of food on the table. Alex heard a startling familiar laugh and, raising an eyebrow at Thomas, watched as a group of individuals emerged from the living room. Mary, John, Elizabeth, Peter, James Madison, Dolley, Martha, and the girl Martha was flirting with the night of the party. Alexander couldn’t remember her name. 

“We couldn’t let you guys leave without giving you a proper Southern goodbye.” Mary exclaims, her hand clasped tightly around her mimosa. 

“It’s about time you two quit trying to hook up and decided to join us.” Martha teases fondly, and Alexander watches in amusement as Thomas’s cheeks darken just enough to be noticeable in the morning light. 

“The lady has a point, Thomas.” James says with an easy smile, shaking Thomas’s hand and then turning to Alexander. James smiles genuinely, “Alexander, it’s always a pleasure.”

He wants to laugh. He wants to make a joke about how James always sounds like he’s in a business meeting. Instead he accepts a handshake from the smaller man and says, “The same goes for you, Jemmy.”

Alexander surprised he doesn’t get at the very least a dirty look for using the nickname. James only smiles wider and steps to the side to make way for Dolley. She’s looking as lovely as always, black hair tied back and a short ruby dress complimenting her perfectly. 

“Alexander dear, I’m afraid I’ve become quite fond of you in the short amount of time that we’ve known each other. I don’t know what I’ll do when you return to New York.” She smiles sweetly at him, her lips spreading over bright white teeth. 

Alexander grabs her arm and gently presses a feather light kiss to the back of her hand, “Dolley, I’m afraid I can only return your sentiments. You must come visit us in New York. If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure James would be more than happy to oblige.”

She chuckles happily, and Alexander knows he isn’t imagining the instant blush of red that floods her cheeks at the mention of James’s name. 

“Let’s eat!” Elizabeth calls from where she’s already seated at the table, “I’m starving.”

Alexander follows Dolley to the table and slides into the seat next to his fake boyfriend. Thomas hands him a champagne flute filled with champagne and orange juice. Alexander accepts the drink thankfully and holds it up to his lips. 

He catches a glimpse of Thomas out of the corner of his eye and sighs happily. He knows that the time they have together, in this little bubble of privacy they’ve built in Virginia, is fastly fleeting. He can feel the hours they have left slipping slowly through his fingers like when he would pick up handfuls of sand back on Nevis and watch it fall through his fingers and into the ocean. 

He feels Thomas’s hand resting gently on his thigh underneath the table and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. 

Once they’ve finished eating John, Mary, and Elizabeth clear the dishes from the table. Jane dissappears for a moment and when she returns, in her arms is a gold package. It reminds Alexander of the gift he bought for Thomas for their “anniversary”. 

_ Thomas grabbed the gold box and sat it down on the table in front of him. He ran his long fingers over the box and then slide off the bow. He pulled the lid off and slowly opened it. Thomas shifted through the purple paper and then his movements stilled. At once, Thomas threw his head back to let out a loud laugh. _

She hands the gold covered box to Alexander and tells him to open it. “Jane, you didn’t have to get me anything.” He responds, but accepts the gift. 

She smiles kindly at him, the wrinkles in her forehead shifting with the movement, “Consider a thank you gift. Thank you for coming to spend your break with us, and thank you for loving my son. He needs someone like you.” 

Alexander swallows painfully as he looks into her earnest brown eyes. He would feel guilty, but her words are the truth. “I do love your son.” Alexander tells her and his throat feels dry, “More than you could ever know.” He’s almost afraid his words sound too earnest, afraid that Thomas will look into the meaning behind the words. He’s worried that Thomas will know he’s saying it for more than just the show, that he’s saying it to assure himself as much as Jane. 

“Open it, dear.” She tells him, and returns to her seat across from Alexander. He tears at the gold foil and slowly peels open the brown box that he uncovers. Alexander smiles when he recognizes the papers inside. It’s a special edition of The Federalist Papers. 

“Thomas had mentioned that you lost your copy. He also said that you were quite fond of the papers. We thought it would be a way for you to remember us back in New York.” Elizabeth says quietly as Alexander trails his fingers over the papers. 

“Thank you so much.” He tells them earnestly, trying to blink away the tears that threaten to fill his eyes. He glances back up at Mary, “Thomas said I lost my copy?”

Mary and Elizabeth both nod and Alexander casts his gaze to the man next to him. Thomas is purposely not making eye contact. 

“Is that not what happened?” Peter asks, glancing between the both of them. 

Alexander’s smile grows a little, “I did loose them, but Thomas must have forgotten to mention how I lost them.”

He frowns a little when he remembers  _ exactly  _ how he did loose them. 

_ Alexander was sitting at his desk. He had a five page paper due for Lee in a month and like hell would he let that asshole try and give him less than an A. He rolled his eyes and focused on the words that were spread across the page.  _

_ “Go the fuck to sleep.” Thomas hissed from his bed, and Alexander heard the sound of him turning on the mattress.  _

_ Alexander rolled his eyes and continued typing.  _

_ “Hamilton go the fuck to sleep, I swear.” _

_ Alexander huffed out a sigh and turned in his chair, “Why don’t you go jack off with Madison and leave me the hell alone? Some of us actually care about more than our looks.” _

_ “You spend a lot of time thinking about me jacking off?” Thomas hummed thoughtfully, his voice thick with sleep. “Now that you suggested it, I guess I could just get myself off here.” He heard the sheets ruffle and Alexander spun back quickly to face his laptop, “Keep your hands out of your fucking pants or I’ll burn every piece of clothing you have.” _

_ “Go to sleep Hamilton or I swear to God you’ll regret it..” _

_ Alexander rolled his eyes again and started on his next paragraph.  _

_ He was pleasantly surprised when he woke up the next morning to a Jefferson-free room. Alexander hummed lightly and rolled over onto his back. He yawned like a cat and stretched out the full length of his bed. It took him a second, but Alexander eventually realized that something felt off. He sat up and put his feet on the floor. Instead of touching cold floor, they touched parchment. Alexander glanced down at the floor and noticed that every inch of their dorm room floor was covered in shredded paper.  _

_ Alexander bent down and picked up one of the larger pieces of paper off the floor to read it.  _

**_The instability, injustice, and confusion introduced into the public councils, have, in truth, been the mortal diseases under which popular governments have everywhere perished; as they continue to be the favorite and fruitful topics from which the adversaries to liberty derive their most specious declamations._ **

_ Alexander’s mouth fell open. That bastard, he wouldn’t. Alexander grabbed another handful of papers and read them. His breath got caught in his throat. Alexander stood up and ran to their dorm door and pulled it open. The rush of air stirred the papers from the floor and Alexander gasped staring out the door.  _

_ The only thing in the hallway were the shredded papers that lined the floor. His papers. His Federalist Papers.  _

_ That Bastard.  _

“And I left that part out for a reason.” Thomas says directly, obviously hinting that Alexander shouldn’t tell his family that Thomas was the one who ripped up his Federalist Papers and tossed them out into the hallway. 

Alexander looks into the hopeful faces of Thomas’s family and friends. All of who - with the exception of James - have no idea what actually happened to his papers. Alexander smiles, “I suppose it’s a story for another time.”

They eventually wrap up in the kitchen and move to the living room. Martha and her sort of girlfriend both say their goodbyes. Martha hugs Thomas fiercely and whispers something that makes the Virginian laugh. Then she hugs Alexander just as tight and tells him not to let go of that man. He kisses her cheek and wishes her safe travel back to her house. 

James and Dolley are the next to leave. Dolley grabs Thomas and gives him a tight hug. James takes the opportunity to pull Alexander aside. 

“Listen, I know I wasn’t entirely supportive of your relationship with Thomas at the beginning, but I know how much you love him and I can see that he loves you too. I really do want you both the be happy.” James tells him, “Despite our past disagreements, I still care about you Alex.”

Alexander swallows around his words, “Thank you James. That means a lot and I appreciate you telling me.” He chokes when the smaller Virginian pulls him into a hug. James whispers into his ear, “Don’t screw this up.”

Alexander pulls away and James smiles at him before turning to pull Thomas into a hug. 

Dolley comes over to Alexander and kisses him softly on the cheek, “Please do keep in touch, dear.” 

He returns the sentiment and turns around to catch the serious look James sends to Thomas before he turns and links arms with Dolley. 

“Safe travels.” James calls over his shoulder as they walk to the car. 

Alexander shuts the door and  turns to face Thomas. He can’t help the smile that grows on his lips. God, he’s in love. 

John helps them pack their bags into the back of Thomas’s car and at 11:57, they’re officially ready to leave Monticello. Alexander’s standing in Thomas’s room starring at the bookshelf. He hears the door open behind him and turns to smile softly at Thomas. The man hands him a small duffle bag and Alexander unzips it, surprised to see dark green 100$ bills. 

“It’s all there.” Thomas says, “You can count it if you’d like.”

Alexander shakes his head, “I trust you.” He glances back up and looks into Thomas’s dark eyes. 

Thomas holds his hand out, and like a million other times, Alexander takes it. 

“You have to promise me that you’ll call?” Mary murmurs into his ear. Her long arms are wrapped tightly around Alexander’s neck. He hugs her back just as ferice, his arms sitting low on her waist. 

“Of course I’ll call. I’m going to need someone to complain about Thomas to.” He says, only slightly teasing. Alex has a feeling that even though Spring Break is over, his problems with the man are only just beginning. She laughs at that, although there are tears in her eyes. 

John and Peter both shake his hand and Elizabeth gives him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jane hugs him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before and tells him that she’s going to miss him. Her tears are cascading down her face and Alexander feels so close to crying. He wipes a few tears from her cheeks and pulls her back into his arms. 

Thomas hugs her next, and kisses her on the top of the head. Alexander overhears him whisper, “I love you too ma, don’t worry about me. Alex will take care of me.”

He feels guilt flush through his body. 

Thomas links his fingers with Alexander’s and walks him out of the door. They’re walking to the car and Alexander realizes this is going to be the last time he’s ever going to be at Monticello. He stops on the front steps of Monticello and turns to face the house one last time. 

It feels as though a chapter of his life is closing. He feels Thomas’s eyes on him and he turns to look at the man he loves. 

Alexander leans up on his tiptoes and brings his lips to Thomas’s. He throws himself into the kiss, making it as sweet and slow as possible. Alexander tangles his hands in the bottom of Thomas’s hair and presses himself into the Virginian’s body. He kisses with the passion that he’s been hiding this entire trip. The unadulterated love he feels flowing through his lips. He doesn’t care if he’s subtle anymore. He just wants Thomas’s lips against his own one more time. 

Alexander pulls away to catch his breath and looks into Thomas’s glassy eyes. The Virginian’s got a bittersweet smile on his face when he takes one last look at Monticello before he grabs Alexander’s arm and walks with him to the car.

Thomas is finishing loading their last few belongings when Alexander’s phone rings. He presses answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Hello?”

“Alexander,” Eliza’s voice greets him through the phone. 

His breath is pulled from his lungs, “Eliza.” Out of the corner of his vision, Alexander sees Thomas freeze. 

“I’ve spent this entire break thinking about you and your apology. I’ve realized how much I miss you. I’ve thought a lot about it and I’m ready to give us another chance, that is if you still want to.” Eliza’s voice is crystal clear through the phone. 

The decision he’d been dreading to make finally demands an answer with her words. Alexander pauses for half a second. He thinks about saying no, thinks about telling her that he loves someone else too. But what good would that do? Why does Alexander want to spend his life pinning over a man who will never love him back? When he could have the girl he loves, the girl who also might love him back?

He forces the words from his mouth before he can think to change his mind. 

“Of course I still want to give us a chance, Eliza.” Alexander says desperately, “You know I love you.”

She chuckles into the phone and Alexander knows that she’s blushing, “Okay then. I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Absolutley, Eliza. Consider it a date.” Alexander responds without a second of hesitation. 

“Goodbye Alexander,”

“Goodbye.” He murmurs, hanging up the phone and letting his body lean against the car. He sighs happily and turns around to face Thomas. 

The Virginian is already looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. It looks like a mix of shock and hurt, and worst of all: betrayal. 

Alexander steps forward with an arm out, “Thom-”

Thomas rips his arm away from Alexander’s hand and slams the trunk closed. “Don’t worry about it,  _ Hamilton _ .” Thomas says, his words cold and emotionless, much like back when they hated each other. 

_ Hamilton _ . Thomas has called him  _ Hamilton _ . His breath catches when he realizes that it  _ really  _ is the end of a chapter for him. Thomas got his fake boyfriend, Alexander got his money. The deals over. Alexander takes a deep breath. It’s over. 

_Hamilton_

Spit like the most vile of curse words. Who would have thought that a single word could hurt so bad?

Thomas opens the driver’s side door and slides into his seat, “Let’s go,  _ Hamilton _ .”

Ouch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Trying


	21. The Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome (back) to new york.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter to help set up part 2. i had a really bad day, so im looking forward to seeing all your amazing comments. you all are beautiful angels and i love you. 
> 
> Part 2, chapter 1, and ACTION

_ ACT II _

_ “Words are the source of misunderstandings.” - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry _

 

There’s an unmistakable tense silence in the car. It sits low and threatening, like the humidity that clings to your body before a storm. Alexander’s body has long since sunk into the cool buttery leather seats, but his back still retains some of it’s earlier tension. A mixed balls of nameless emotions sits low in his stomach, knotted together like a lost pair of headphones in the bottom of the dresser in his dorm. 

He can place a few of the emotions: guilt, nervousness, confusion. He wants to assume why Thomas was so upset when they left Monticello. Alexander wants to assume that it’s because he overheard his conversation with Eliza and is reacting with this petty passive aggressive bullshit of it. At the same time, Alexander has learned that it’s best to never assume anything. He’s been made a fool plenty of times because his assumptions ran wild and his almost impressive ability to project his feelings on others made him see signals that weren’t there. 

He thinks back to Kitty Livingston. He remembers her well. The simple arch of her well defined brow, the gentle slope of her nose, the cat like smile that played across her face. He also remembers the flush of his cheeks and the instant mortification when he realized that he had read too deep into her kindness and mistaken it for something less platonic. He really doesn’t want to have a repeat of  _ that  _ night. 

In a way that’s almost painful to think about, Alexander begins shifting back through the “signs” that Thomas had sent him. This side glances when he thought Alexander wasn’t looking, the friendship, the kisses, the almost sex. He supposes that those things don’t necessarily mean anything, and his heart constricts just slightly when he stumbles upon what he considers might be a new conclusion he’s yet to drawn. 

Perhaps it all  _ really  _ was an act. Perhaps Thomas was so desperate for the three weeks to pass without incident that he fell wholeheartedly into his role as a perfect boyfriend to Alexander. Perhaps every lingering touch, every longing glance, every private kiss was a thoughtfully planned approach on how to make their relationship seem more real,  _ more authentic.  _

It makes sense. It explains the sudden shift in Thomas’s personality once the deal was done. It explains the way he’s sitting quietly in the car, eyes trained carefully on the road, face stoic and devoid of a single ounce of emotion. 

Alexander would like to think that he got to know Thomas a little better over this break. He’d like to think that they’ve developed some sort of mutual respect, borderline friendship after these three weeks, and it hurts his heart to think that maybe it really was just a game to Thomas. 

That it was all just a way to convince his mom and overbearing sister to let him stay in New York. 

Alexander lets his head fall almost painfully against the window, flinching at the resounding crack that echos through the almost silent car. Thomas hasn’t spoken a word to him since they left Monticello, and Alexander has long since stopped trying to pry a syllable out of the man. Stubborn to a fault, just another thing he has in common with Alex. 

The window is cool to the touch, and Alexander clings to the feeling against his skin to keep him grounded. He’d preferably like to not get lost in his thoughts again. He knows that once he hits the downward spiral, it's a long and deep drop to the bottom - if there’s even a bottom. 

He watches as the rolling hills of Virginia pass in front of his eyes lightening fast. It’s a beautiful sight - one he wishes he could appreciate more. The obvious tension in the car is too distracting for him to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. He hates it. He hates the way that something so trivial could take away his infamous concentration. 

He’d been so deep in thought before that he actually worked through a fire drill, and yet now he can’t keep his thoughts on one subject long enough to decide if he should text John or not. 

Alexander decides that he’s going to attempt to clear the air again. He clears his throat softly before turning in his seat to face Thomas better. He keeps his face blank and watches the man’s unchanging profile in front of him.

Alex sighs, squeezing his eyes shut tightly before he begins to speak, “Thomas, I need to-”

His words are effectively interrupted by a woman's voice. 

_ “Really, Michael, it’s only a matter of time before impeachment is brought to the table as a more than serious idea. The president’s actions have been irrefutably immature and inappropriate, and we see a lot of continued hesitation from many House Republicans. He’s only about three hundred days into his first term and yet he’s already personally attacked 1 in 5 Republican Senators. There will come a time when Trump begins to lose the support of establishment Republicans like Paul Ryan, and Michael, I’m comfortable saying that I think that time is nearing.” _

Alexander’s eyes snap open as he watches Thomas twisting the volume knob up on the radio. His mouth falls open half a centimeter at the pure unadulterated pettiness of the other man’s actions. He knows Thomas though - at least the douche bag Jefferson that he roomed with - and Alexander can’t say that the pettiness surprises him.

He lets his head fall back against the window again and accepts the fact that the rest of the ride will be uncomfortably silent, except for the reporters on the radio talking about the Health Care bill and the increased popularity of socialism among millennials. 

Thomas eventually pulls over at a fast food place that Alexander’s never heard of. He expects Thomas to pull through the drive through, so they can hurry and get back on the road, but the man surprises him by pulling into one of the closest parking spots. 

The reason why doesn’t occur to Alexander until they reach the door of the restaurant. If they went through the drive through, there’s a good chance Thomas would have to ask Alexander what he wanted to eat. 

Any communication at all can be avoided by ordering inside. Alexander pulls the door open and snorts, letting it slam shut behind him before Thomas has a chance to walk inside. 

If Thomas wants to be petty, then Alexander will show him petty. 

They end up getting back to New York an hour before Alexander had expected. He almost tears up at the sight of their dorm building, the comfortably familiar grey scaled building offering him the minimalist protection against his heart. At least here in New York, here in their dorm, Alexander always knew where they stood. He had never thought of Thomas as anything other than an annoyance - a mere obstacle - on his road to glory. He supposes that the other man wishes for things to return to the way there were before they left for Virginia, and Alexander can play that game too. 

He schools his face like he has done plenty of times before, and opens the passenger door. He waits with muted annoyance as Thomas leisurely pops the trunk, and he’s able to grab his belongings. Alexander remains as impassive as possible during their walk into the building and their ride up the elevator. Underneath his calm and indifferent facade, however, are the emotions that bubble up dangerously, nearing the surface of his lidded control. 

He wants to yell; he wants to scream, pounding his hands against the cool stainless steel elevator doors. Alexander wants to yell at Thomas; ask him what the  _ fuck  _ is going on in that frustratingly handsome head of his. He craves to ask if it was all fake. If it’s all really over. 

He doesn’t ask though, because although he refuses to admit it, he’s too afraid of the answer. 

Alexander reaches their dorm door first, and untangles the keys that dangle around his neck. He slides the key in the lock and makes quick work of unlocking the door, and pushing it open with his foot. 

He steps inside, Thomas quick on his heels, and feels a smile grow across his face. It looks the same as the day they left, three weeks ago. Thomas’s bed is made perfectly, while Alexander’s comforter is half slung across his side of the floor. His own desk is a cluttered disarray of papers he’s been meaning to sort through, while Thomas’s is a neat collection of papers - all alphabetically aligned. The only thing that actually proves that Thomas actively lives there is the almost chaotic amount of books that surround his bed. There’s a wide variety of them: hardbacks, paperbacks, epics, a book of poems, a book of America’s financial crisis, and a biography bout William Henry Harrison. 

The books serve as yet another reminder of the Thomas that Alexander fell in love with. The one who loves books more than he could ever love anything else. The man who could spend a lifetime getting lost in the bookshelves at his family’s estate. 

Alexander laid his suitcase down on his bed and sits at the edge. He bites harshly into his lower lip and frowns at the man who’s completely ignoring him.

“Thomas  _ please _ ,” He begs pathetically, praying that Thomas would just turn around and let him explain. “I know you’re mad, but if you could just tell me why. I thought we were friends. That doesn’t have to change just because we’re back in New York.”

The man turns to look at him for a second, his brown eyes glancing over Alexander quickly, like he was invisible. For a second, Alexander thinks that he might have won and that, maybe, Thomas will at the very least listen to him. His hope lasts until Thomas pulls out a pair of tangled headphones from his jacket pocket and plugs them into his ears. 

Alexander stares after him for a moment, watching as Thomas suits through his suitcase, completely oblivious to the mental turmoil that Alex is going through. He knows it’s selfish to think that Thomas owes him anything. He’s already been paid, and James Madison will no doubt come through during session, but he can’t help but feel like after everything they’ve been through that their friendship meant something. 

Apparently he was wrong about that too.

He eventually gathers the nerve to get up from his bed and begins to sort through the clothes in his suitcase. He’s almost to the bottom when he pulls out a purple sweatshirt that decidedly does not belong to him. Alexander holds the soft cotton in his fingers, rubbing it gently between his thumb and pointer finger. He figures that Thomas will most definitely want his clothes back, but Alexander can’t dare imagine handing over the only thing he has left to remind him of the trip.  

He needs something concrete, something to touch and feel and smell, to convince himself that it really happened and that it wasn’t some crazy fever induced dream. Alexander checks over his shoulder and makes sure Thomas isn’t looking when he shoves the sweatshirt under his comforter to take care of later. He doubts Thomas will pay him any mind, but he doesn’t want to chance Thomas seeing and taking the sweatshirt back if Alexander attempts to hide it when he’s in the room. 

Alexander’s fingers are grabbing onto the last piece of clothing in his suitcase when there’s a tasteless and distinct knock on their door. Thomas glances up, as if he expected the sound, and pulls a single headphone from his ear. Alexander tries to disguise his watching as his eyes follow the Virginian as he walks to the door and opens it. 

“James,” Thomas greets his fellow Virginian coolly. The man nods, lips pressed into a thin line and returns the greeting. 

Thomas turns from the door and walls briskly across the floor. “Let me grab my things and we can go.”

Alexander gives up all pretenses of pretending like he wasn’t listening and scoffs loudly. James Madison’s eyes snap to his, and if looks could kill, Alexander would be six and a half feet under. James’s stare is cold and emotionless, like staring into a deep, dark abyss of nothingness. His eyes flash with something Alexander can’t recognize, and the frown on his face deepens in the corners. 

Thomas emerges from their shared bathroom with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Alexander steps in front of him, blocking his path to the door. “You’re seriously leaving?” Alexander scoffs coldly, trying to cover the way his voice quivers under the facade, “We can’t even talk about this?”

Thomas, for the first time since they left Virginia, looks Alexander dead in the eyes. His normally vibrant brown eyes are dull with boredom and indifference. The nothingness that Alexander sees reflected in them is enough to make him take a step back. It’s enough to spur Thomas on, who side steps Alexander and follows James out into the hallway. The door slams shut after his retreating figure with enough force to make Alexander wince. 

He stares at the closed door for a few seconds, before a single tear falls onto his cheek. 

It’s about an hour after Thomas leaves that Alexander finally finds the motivation to get up from his bed. He’d been lying there on his side, eyes pathetically trained on the door, when he realized that he had more than just Thomas in New York. He had John, Hercules, and Lafayette, and in a weird love-hate way, he had Burr. 

He had so many more things to do than lay there and stare at the door like a puppy waiting for the return of it’s owner. 

Alexander drags himself out of the bed and strips out of his clothes. After having spent such a ride in the car, Alex is craving a change into something different. He pulls on a pair of dark denim jeans and a Pink Floyd shirt that he’s pretty sure belongs to John. Alexander pulls his hair out of the bun and pockets his phone before slipping out the door. 

The walk to John’s apartment is familiar, and Alexander’s body follows the trail like muscle memory. He knows he probably should have text John and told him that he was coming over, but he wanted to surprise the man. 

It takes a little over ten minutes to get to the front door of his friend’s apartment complex. He’s glad he decided to walk, because after the car ride, his legs are thanking him for the opportunity to be involved. He buzzes himself in the front door and takes the stairs two at a time. 

Alexander knocks on John’s door, two sharp taps on wood to alert the man of his presence. He waits a second before knocking again. 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Alex hears through the door and feels a smile cross his face. Three weeks was too long to be away from his best friend. 

The lock clicks and John pulls open the door. He stares at Alexander for a minute, as if he can’t quite believe that he’s there, before grabbing him and pulling him against his chest in a bone crushing hug. Alexander hugs him back even tighter, his fingers gripping the soft cotton of John’s sweater. He tucks his face into the side of John’s neck, letting John’s soft curls brush against his face. Alexander breathes in heavily, the soothing smell of John’s cologne and shampoo flooding his nose and releasing a bit of the tension he held in his shoulders. 

John hugs him for a long time. It could be minutes or hours or days, Alexander can’t distinguish the time that passes. All he can feel is the relief courses through his veins as he listens to the calm beating of John’s heart in his ear. It’s almost as if John can tell, and Alex should not be surprised by this fact, that something is wrong. He’s always had that keen sense of reasoning, his empathy surpassing the standard and outstretching into something more. Maybe it’s because it’s Alexander, and John knows him like no one else could. He knows how hard and fast he falls in love, and he’s seen first hand the aftermath too. Or maybe it’s because John knows Thomas. He knows his passion and his stubbornness. Or maybe it’s just because John is special. He’s always been special; it’s one of the few things Alexander is sure of. 

Eventually John pulls away, one hand staying planted on Alexander’s hip, and the other one curled in his hair. Alex makes a whining noise when he pulls away, and John’s lips twitch up into one of those smiles that makes Alex’s heart hurt. It’s one of those smiles that shows all of John’s teeth, and proves just how happy he is. It’s a smile that can’t be faked. 

John pulls his hand out of his hair and uses it to tilt Alexander’s chin up. The man’s dark eyes stare into Alex’s and he smiles, “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

They end up sitting down on the couch together. Or, well, John sits down on the couch, Alexander lays down, his face resting on John’s thighs. John combs his fingers through Alex’s hair as he talks about what happened in Virginia. He explains everything: the feelings he caught, the kisses, the almost sex, the party, the cuddling, Eliza, and the way Thomas acted on the way back. John’s a good listening, being completely quiet except for the occasional question or acknowledgment of Alex’s words. 

He feels utterly exhausted by the time he finishes explaining how quickly things hit the fan. He closes his eyes, face rubbing against the soft cotton of John’s sweatpants. 

“Whatever happens, you know I’ll always have your back Alex.” John says encouragingly. Alexander blinks open his eyes and stares into the earnest face of his best friend. John’s freckles seem more prominent since he left, and he’s let a little bit of his facial hair grow out. 

“I know, John.” He replies quietly, “Is there anyway I can stay here tonight? I don’t really want to be in the dorm by myself.”

He expects to see pity in John’s eyes, but there’s none of it there. “Of course you can.” John says simply. No further questions, no interrogation. Just a plain and simple answer. 

It’s that night when Alexander crawls into bed beside John, that he realizes how lucky he is to be friends with such an incredible person. He shivers when the cold air touches his bare feet, and John fixes the comforter and pulls it up over there bodies. He scoots forward, wrapping his lean body around Alexander easily. 

“Goodnight Alexander.” John whispers into the dark. 

He closes his eyes and lets his body sink into the mattress. “Goodnight John.”

Alexander listens to the even breathing of the man behind him, and lets it lull him to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: the 2nd chance
> 
> i usually post on tumblr about when i'll be updating, so you can follow me there (willieverbesatisfied) and my tag for this story is "taotc update"


	22. The Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander finally gets his date with Eliza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! Finals had me stressed, but now that they're over, I hope to be a little more consistent. 
> 
> A huge thanks to zaosa on tumblr for betaing this chapter and making it readable :)
> 
> (There's a little platonic Lams in this one, like they kiss but there are no romantic feelings. Also, sorry for the lack of Jamilton, we're getting there I promise.)
> 
> Comments and Kudos help keep me inspired. (Plus I love hearing what y'all think)

Alexander lets out a sigh, rolling onto his side and closer to the bundle of warmth beside him. He pulls the comforter up closer to his chin and groans as his legs are thrust into the chilling cold. John’s snoring softly next to him and Alexander smiles. He pushes a bundle of curls away from John’s face and watches as the man’s nose scrunches up.  
  
His eyes flutter and a second later they open, bright brown sunshine gazing into Alexander’s.

The peaceful solitude of the morning is interrupted the second John opens his mouth, “Why are you staring at me?” John mumbles, his voice thick with sleep and his Southern accent deafening.

Alexander chokes around his laugh and rolls his eyes, “I missed my best friend.”

John raises an eyebrow and flings himself over onto Alexander’s body, “I missed my best friend too.” He says, from where he’s hovering over Alexander. John looks up and rubs his chin, “That reminds me, I should call Lafayette and ask how he is.”

Alex’s mouth falls open, and he stares, affronted at John. He pushes him hard and flips them so John falls backwards and he’s straddling John’s stomach. “You’re such an asshole.” Alexander laughs, accepting the hug that John pulls him into.

“And yet you love me anyway,” He murmurs into Alexander hair and Alex relaxes into John’s welcoming embrace.

They lay there for a moment, no sound except for the air conditioning and the ever constant squeal of traffic outside. It’s almost uncomfortable to hear the noise beyond the walls, so used to the quiet solitude he found in Virginia. His phone chimes from its place on the bedside table. Alexander groans, stretching his arm out to the side and grabbing the piece of metal.

He checks the screen, excitement tightening in his stomach when he sees who the message is from.

_From Eliza <3: Are we still on for today? I was thinking we could get lunch somewhere. _

“Who is it?” John mumbles sleepily as Alexander’s fingers fly across the keyboard.

“Eliza.”

_To Eliza <3: Lunch sounds amazing. I can pick you up in like an hour and we can go to that little place off Meredith Lane. _

She responds a second later.

_From Eliza <3: Okay! I can’t wait to see you!! _

Alexander throws his phone down onto the side of the bed and rolls out of bed. “You got any clothes I can borrow? I’m supposed to pick 'Liza up in half an hour.” Alexander says, stripping off his clothes, “You think Laf would let me borrow his car?”

John groans and climbs out of bed, going to his dresser and pulling out a pair of khaki pants and a nice button up shirt. He throws it at Alexander, and he barely catches it, the material almost sliding through his fingers. “Oh, this is nice,” Alexander murmurs absentmindedly as he thumbs the shirt.

“Courtesy of Henry Laurens,” John responds, voice only a little disgusted, “Why don’t you take my car? I’m just gonna chill out here with Hercules, probably smoke some weed or some shit.”

Alexander slides the shirt over his head and steps into the pants. He steps forward to press a kiss to John’s lips - a familiar action in the friendship - and smiles, “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Where are your keys?”

John rolls his eyes and points at the pair of keys hanging off his dresser. “Thank you,” Alexander replies, “Thank you so much!”

He rushes into the bathroom, splashes water on his face and uses a spare toothbrush to clean his teeth. He looks decent, black hair framing his face and the bags beneath his eyes lighter. Alexander dabs a little of John’s cologne onto his pulse points and smiles at himself in the mirror.

Perfect? No, but doable.

He lets John coo at him and laughs at the attention before grabbing his phone and John’s keys and making a break for it.

The drive to Eliza’s apartment that she shares with her sisters comes second nature to Alexander. He makes the drive almost completely from muscle memory, each turn and stop ingrained into his brain.

Alexander pulls up outside the apartment complex with two minutes to spare, thanking every deity he’s heard of that traffic was reasonable today. He types out a text message to her, but stops halfway through when he hears the sharp sound of a door slamming shut. Alexander looks up and his mouth falls open.

He hasn’t seen her since the pamphlet, but she looks as gorgeous as ever. Eliza’s walking towards the car, and in that moment, everything seems like slow motion. She’s wearing a beautiful periwinkle blue dress that falls mid thigh on her, with a pair of strappy white heels. Her black hair is blown out, falling in light curls around her face. She looks so beautifully perfect that Alexander’s breath gets stolen from his lungs.

He shakes himself out of his trance, and steps out of the car to greet her. He doesn’t miss the way her pink lips spread into a smile when she sees him.

Alexander stops in front of her and grabs her hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. She giggles, and brushes a stray curl behind her ear with her free hand. Alexander glances up at her dark sparkling eyes and whispers across her hand, “You are the most beautiful girl in this universe.

Her cheeks flush a deep red and she smiles, “I bet you say that to all the girls, Alexander.” Eliza replies jokingly, but there’s a touch of hesitant certainty beneath her words. It’s in this moment, that Alexander realizes the full ramifications of his actions. He had taken this beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman - and he destroyed her.

“No,” He says a little too fiercely, and Eliza flinches, “I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, and I’ve made you doubt the things I feel for you, but Eliza, you are the most beautiful girl in this world. You are the most intelligent, passionate, kind person I know, and I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

She smiles at him, just a little thing that he knows means more than her biggest grin. It’s a quiet, but grateful, show of appreciation.

“Let’s go?” She asks, and Alexander nods, walking by her to open the passenger side door for her.

She steps into the car and Alex shuts the door softly behind her. He walks around to the driver’s side and climbs in, starting the car and pulling back onto the street.

“So, how was your trip to Virginia?” She asks, crossing her hands in her lap. Alexander sighs, this was the one thing he didn’t want to talk to her about. He’s still so confused and talking to Eliza about Thomas will only make things even harder. But this is also Eliza, the one person he’s never doubted he loves. The one person who’s been with him when he was nothing, and while he tried to make something of himself. She’s one of the few people that Alexander trust in-explicitly. She’s always been the kind, gentle hand on his shoulder. He owes her this, doesn’t he?

“Virginia was _an experience_. It was strange being there because it’s so different from New York. It was nice, Jefferson’s not as big of a dick as I previously thought. His family was very nice too.” Alexander explains.

Eliza’s smile softens, “So you and Thomas are getting along? I’m sure Angelica will be glad to hear. She was always so adamant about how you and Thomas would be friends if you could just stop fighting for ten minutes.”

Getting along? That was an understatement. He thinks back to the night of Mary’s party.

 _Alexander glanced up from beneath his lashes and smiles. He was tired, but he could never be too tired to kiss Thomas Jefferson._  
  
_He leaned forward and connected their lips. It was gentle at first, but there was so much energy simmering beneath Alexander’s skin, that he soon pressed in desperately._  
_  
_ _Thomas’s tongue pushed into his mouth, and Alexander made this wrecked sound in the back of his throat. They kissed desperately, and Alexander was pleased when Thomas rolled over and spread his body on top of Alex’s._

_He felt hot all over. Thomas’s hands were everywhere: running up the sides of his body, twisting in his hair. His lips were everywhere too: kissing Alexander, depositing sweet kisses to his forehead, and then trailing hot kisses down his neck._

And then the day he realized he was in love with Thomas after they had taken a tour through the gardens of Monticello and had gotten caught in the rain.

 _He knew that it was no different than the rest of their kisses, but it felt so much different, so much better. Alexander reached up and tangled his fingers in the wet curls that framed his fake boyfriend’s face and groaned into the kiss. He pressed himself closer, eliminating the space between them and smiling against Thomas’s lips. Thomas’s fingers ran up the sides of his body, fingers dipping into the back pockets of his pants and then using that grip for leverage to pull Alex closer to him._  
  
_He went willingly, flinging himself into Thomas’s arms and pressing desperately into the kiss. Thomas hummed against his lips before breaking away, and letting his mouth leave a trail of hot kisses down Alex’s neck. It made his knees weak, the feeling of Thomas’s mouth hot against his too cold skin. His body heaved with each breath that attempted to fill his lungs because it was too much, but at the same time it was not enough._  
  
_Alexander surged back to kiss Thomas again, their lips gliding together, and their teeth scraping lips. It was overwhelming and oh so beautiful. He hummed into the kiss, delighted with the little moan that left Thomas’s mouth when he did so._  
_  
Eventually, Alexander broke away from the kiss to smile up at Thomas. He watched as the other man smiled back down with warmth and happiness radiating in his eyes._

Yeah, he thinks, getting along was definitely a bit of an understatement.

“Can I be honest for a second?” Eliza asks, her voice breaking Alexander out of his thoughts.

Alexander nods, “I expect nothing less.”

Eliza glances at her hands before speaking, “When Angelica told me you called, I told her to tell you to fuck off because I thought you were dating Thomas..” A pause, “She then explained that you pretended to date him so his family would get off his back, and that’s what made me decide to give you a second chance. That you would selflessly spend time with the person you hated. It convinced me that you’re a changed man, and I knew I should give you another chance.”

Fuck. Alexander stares out the front glass without responding. Eliza had given him another chance because he went to Virginia. He fell in love with Thomas because he went to Virginia. Everything comes back to Virginia.

Eventually he gets his words back, “Well, I’m glad you gave me another chance, Eliza.”

He glances at her and she smiles, “Me too.”

The restaurant is almost completely empty when they arrive. Alexander opens the door for her and takes her hand to help escort her inside.

The restaurant is a cozy hole in the wall place that Alexander took Eliza on their first date, oh so long ago. At the time, this restaurant was the only thing he could afford, and now - even though money is still tight - there is no place he’d rather take her.

This place means more to the both of them than Alexander could ever explain.

Alexander and Eliza get seated in a small booth and the waitress - a Korean girl with pink hair - hands them two menus and takes their drink orders.

The second the waitress steps away with their food and drink orders, Eliza glances around the restaurant with a small smile on her face.

“It’s been so long since I’ve eaten here.” She begins, turning her smile towards Alexander, “I refused to come here after everything that happened.”

Alexander’s frown softens at the reminder of his past mistakes. He knew the second he posted that stupid blog that this would follow him everywhere, but for one second he wishes he could escape Maria Reynolds and his own idiocy.

Looking at the actual goddess sitting across from him, Alexander - once again - questions how he could have made such a terrible decision. He knows he was weak, barely awake, and in desperate need of a break, but how could that justify giving up this angel. And for what? A few fucks in a hotel and even more in his dorm room.

His dorm room. The thought of his dorm room brings him back to the second thing he doesn’t want to think about with Eliza; his roommate. Thomas Jefferson. Could he give up everything he has and had with Eliza for _Thomas fucking Jefferson_? The man he used to hate more than anything? The previous bane of his existence? But the same man he’s in love with.

The waitress brings out their drinks and disappeared as quickly as she came, leaving Alexander with his thoughts and his Eliza.

Eliza takes a sip from her wine and holds her glass up to Alexander, “A toast to new beginnings.”

Alexander hesitates for a second before raising his glass and letting it clink against hers.

“To new beginnings.”

The rest of lunch is nice. Alexander had forgotten how good it felt to just be for a little while. To stop worrying about hiding secrets, whether it was pretending to be in love with Thomas when they first got to Virginia, to pretending not to be in love with him when they left. At every moment, Alexander had to keep his guard up, protecting himself and Thomas from what would happen if Thomas’s family found out it was all fake… well, until it wasn’t.

Things are different with Eliza. Alexander’s guard is down, he’s relaxed for the first time in forever. He feels like he’s whole again.

The waitress brings the check and Alexander picks it up before Eliza even gets the chance to think about it. After everything he’s done to her, picking up the bill is the least he can do.

They walk outside together, and Eliza takes Alexander’s hand. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, and Alexander is struck by how normal everything feels. It feels like two years ago when he had first met her, and his only worry was when he would get paid next and if Jefferson would say something stupid about his presentation.

He helps her into the car, and the drive back to her apartment is comfortably silent. He keeps his hand intertwined with hers and resting against her thigh. When he pulls up to the apartment, Eliza shoots a questioning look his way.

“Will you come inside?” She asks and Alexander’s stomach drops. This time yesterday he was thinking about having sex with Thomas. He doesn’t think he’s ready to be intimate with anyone for awhile.

He looks at her hesitantly, “Eliza, I still love you but this is a little fast-”

“Oh my God, Alex! No- I didn’t- I meant to like walk me inside.” She interrupts, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks, “I agree that we need to wait.”

Relief floods his gut and Alexander nods, “Right,” He hums, “Well in that case, of course I will.”

He pulls the keys from the ignition and walks around to her door, “After you, love.”

She giggles and grabs Alexander’s hand in hers and pulls him into the apartment complex and into the elevator.

It occurs to him for the first time since Eliza asked him inside that she doesn’t live alone. And that he’s not on the best terms with either of her sisters.

It’s too late to think about that when Eliza’s unlocking their apartment door and walking inside.

The first thing that Alex notices is Peggy, sitting cross legged on the couch with a bag of potato chips in her lap.

Angelica walks out of the kitchen and stops, both her and Peggy flashing Alexander unimpressed looks.

Eliza sends him a kind smile, “I’m going to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back. Pegs, be nice. Angelica… I’d tell you the same if I thought you would listen.”

Alexander watches as his last life line disappears from view - along with Angelica - and he takes a seat next to Peggy on the couch.

She scoots closer to him and smiles, “Angie says I’m supposed to be mad at you still, but if Eliza can forgive you after all the shit you put her through, so can I. Angelica just likes to hold grudges.”

The forgiveness of the youngest Schuyler sister is something that Alexander never knew he wanted. Hearing her words makes him a thousand times more at ease though, and he smiles at her. “I’m glad, Peggy, I’ve really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Alex. Angelica can’t appreciate my memes like you can.”

He laughs at that and she smiles, but Peggy’s face soon turns serious. “Can I ask you something, Alex?”

He nods, “Yes,” but he’s hesitant to find out what she could possibly ask.

“Angie said you were fake dating Thomas, but in the picture that Thomas posted on Instagram you both look so in love.”

His mind panics, and his throat feels sticky when he finally replies, “I guess we're both just great actors.”

She seems to accept that answer and turns her attention back to whatever she was doing on her phone.

Eliza reenters a moment later - thankfully without her older sister- and shoots Peggy a stern look. She must get the hint, because she excuses herself, but not before telling Alexander bye and promising to send him any memes worthy of his attention.

Once Peggy’s out of the room, Eliza turns her attention back to Alexander. She takes one of his hands and holds it in hers. “I had a really good time today.” She begins, “I thought about it a lot, and I really want to give this another chance. An actual second chance. If you want to.”

He doesn’t hesitate before answering, and he most definitely does not think of Thomas before answering, “I do, there’s nothing I want more.”

She shoots him a dazzling smile, and he gently kisses her cheek before pulling away. “I should get going, but I’ll call you.”

“Okay, bye Alexander."

He barely resists the urge to kiss her again and instead excuses himself and lets himself out of the apartment.

Alexander shoves his hands into his pockets as he makes his way out of the apartment complex. He’s halfway to John’s car when a voice from behind calls his name.

“Alexander!” Angelica’s voice rings through the air and he stops, turns around, and sees her rushing out of the doors after him.

She catches up to him and pulls him into a hug. He’s shocked by the contact, taking an involuntary step backwards as he tries to regain his footing. He wraps his arms back around her and returns the hug.

“I missed you so much Alexander, but I swear to God if you ever try to pull that shit on my sister again, I’ll make sure they never find your body.”

It reminds him of a threat he heard so long ago, in a black convertible BMW, on the way to Virginia.

“I won’t.” He promises her, and she releases him from the confines of her arms. 

Angelica smiles, “Good.”

It’s late when Alexander finally gets back to the dorm room. He’s thankful that he will finally have an opportunity to talk to Thomas about all the shit that’s gone down since they left Virginia.

He unlocks the dorm room and steps inside, disappointment seeping through every pore of his body when he sees his roommate, fast asleep under the comforter.

Alexander’s tempted to wake Thomas up, to plead with the man to just let him explain. Eventually he decides against it and sits down at his desk to continuing working on his article for Washington.

He hears Thomas turn in his sleep, and Alexander lets his head fall down against his desk in frustration.

For the first time in three weeks Alexander really isn’t looking forward to going to sleep because he knows he’ll be sleeping alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Letter


	23. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is dumb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no Thomas in this one either BUT he'll be coming up soon! Let me know what y'all think of this chapter!

Alexander pulls on the handle of the coffee shop door, the smell of sweet caffeinated coffee leaking out and into the morning air. He steps inside, stepping into line behind the counter to place his order. He hears a voice calling his name and looks up, startled, to see John waving at him from their corner table.

John holds up a second cup of coffee and Alexander sighs in relief. He didn’t know if he could wait in the line for a boost of caffeine.

Alexander walks over to the table and slides into the seat across from his best friend. John slides the coffee across the table, and Alexander takes a sip- the warm drink immediately soothing his frazzled nerves.

“I can’t believe we go back to school in five days,” John sighs, “I’m definitely not looking forward to Monroe’s class.”

Alexander is, once again, reminded of the deadline looming over him. He has about five days to finish his paper about John Locke.

“I’m not looking forward to editing my paper,” Alexander adds, taking another sip of his coffee. He narrows his eyes at John, “Aren’t you going to ask me about Eliza?”

John shoots him an unimpressed look, “Wow, Alexander. Please tell me how your date with your ex-girlfriend went, I’m dying to know.”

Alex smiles, “It went great, John, thanks for asking. We went to that restaurant of Meredith Lane. She was adorable, giggling and holding my hand. I took her back to her place, and she asked me to walk her inside. Peggy and Angelica gave me a shovel talk, and Eliza told me she wants to do this for real. Like we’re back together, John.”

John’s eyebrow arches, “And that’s what you want?”

The scoff escapes Alexander’s mouth before he can help it, “Of course that’s what I want! This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of since we broke up. I love her.”

“And yet you also love Jefferson.”

Alex freezes, and drawls, “That’s true.” A pause, “But she makes me happy, John. I know I can be satisfied when I'm with her.”

A frown curves into John’s mouth, “Are you happy? Or are you forcing yourself to be happy?

“What am I supposed to do, John? I love both of them, but is it even fair to Eliza to be with her if I love Thomas? Should I break it off?”

John’s eyes soften, the crease between his eyebrows smoothing out, “I don’t know.” He reaches out to grab Alexander’s hand, “But just know that whatever you choose, I’ll support you. No matter what.”

Alexander smiles, thanking John, and taking another drink from his coffee. The conversation shifts from Alexander’s love life to John’s. They laugh about the girl John met the other day that seems to be crushing on him.

Alexander’s phone vibrates, and he jumps, quickly pulling up the screen. Guilt swirls in his stomach when he realizes he’s disappointed that it wasn’t Thomas’s name on his phone. He pushes it down and reads the new text.

From Eliza <3: Are you busy? If not, come over! I found something I want to show you!

He looks up from his phone and shoots John a smile, “That’s Eliza, she wants me to come over. You mind if I head out early?”

“No, go ahead.” John replies with a grin, “But you better come out with Herc, Laf, and me tomorrow! We’re going to The Revolution for drinks and I swear to God, I’ll drag your ass down there if I have to. We all haven’t hung out in forever.”

Alexander smiles, “Yeah, I will think about it. Thanks for the coffee.” He blows John a dramatic kiss on his way out.

The walk to the Schuyler Sisters’ apartment from the coffee shop is only a little over ten minutes, and Alexander figures he can use the time to sort through all the messy feelings in his head.

Alex starts with the facts.

  1. He’s in love with Eliza
  2. He’s in love with Thomas
  3. Eliza wants to date him again
  4. He doesn’t know what Thomas thinks



Things get significantly harder after he decides on the irrefutable facts of the situation. He knows how he feels about Eliza and Thomas, and Eliza had just told him last night she wanted to be with him. Alex knows that he doesn’t know a damn thing about what Thomas wants.

He then comes up with a hypothesis.

  * Thomas Jefferson likes him back



Emphasis on hypothesis, because Alexander has plenty of observations to back up his logic, but no definite answer - like, for example, a first-person confession from the man in question.

He then lies out the observations to back his hypothesis.

  1. The cuddling in private
  2. Kissing in private
  3. The intense look Thomas gets in his eye after kissing him
  4. Thomas giving him his jacket on their fake date
  5. How Thomas worried after they got into that fight at Madison’s
  6. They literally almost had sex- _several times_
  7. How Thomas reacted when he overheard Alex tell Eliza he loved her and wanted another chance.



All of these observations can support his hypothesis but can also be used to discredit it. They were fake dating, Alex knew that going into this, he can’t be surprised that Thomas followed through with his end of the deal. Everything is circumstantial, which means Alexander is back to square one.

He comes up with a solution using his unprovable hypothesis. At the least, it’ll give him some idea of how to continue. Using his facts, observations, and intuition- Alexander makes a mental list of next steps, eventually narrowing it down to two.

  1. Be with Eliza and forget about Thomas
  2. ~~Jump into the Hudson~~
  3. Break it off with Eliza and be with Thomas
  4. ~~Forget the both of them~~
  5. ~~Marry John Laurens~~
  6. ~~Flee the country~~



So either be with Eliza or be with Thomas.

Alexander rounds the corner nearest to the Schuyler's apartment and sighs to himself. His methodology wasn’t very helpful.

He’s back to the same place he was two days ago in Virginia. Eliza or Thomas.

_Choose, choose, choose._

_Eliza or Thomas._

_Eliza or Thomas._

_Choose._

He shakes the thoughts from his head and enters the apartment complex, pressing the number three on the elevator and waiting patiently as he ascends.

The elevator plays some obnoxious music, and dings when it stops on flour three. He steps out of the elevator, walking to Eliza’s door and knocking twice. His knuckles cool against the wooden door.

A few seconds later he hears the distinct sound of the locks unlocking, and then the door opens, Eliza’s face greeting him. She looks gorgeous as always, black hair braided back, wearing a blue crop top and white jeans.

“Eliza,” He greets her, letting her step forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles, grabbing her hand and pulling it up to his lips, “You said you had something you wanted to show me?”

Her smile brightens even more - if that’s possible - and she pulls Alexander to the couch. “Sit here, love, I'll go get it!” She rushes out of the room with a laugh.

He uses the opportunity to check his new notifications on his phone. Alexander opens a Snapchat from Lafayette first, a black and white selfie which he screenshots. He slides to the left and bites his lip in surprise when he sees Thomas Jefferson’s story loading.

Alex almost drops his phone in an effort to click the loaded story. It’s a picture of James Madison frowning at the camera, with the caption “Date for the night”.

Alex knows Jefferson doesn't mean it romantically. He knows Thomas and James are just friends, and he knows he has no right to get angry.

That doesn’t stop the jealousy from flowing cold through his veins. A bitter sheet of ice has covered Alexander almost completely, he feels cold and jealous, and angry, and tired.

Eliza walks back into the room, and Alexander forces the bitter jealousy away. She’s just so bright and sunny that it immediately warms the coldness in his chest.

She has a white envelope in her hands, and she clutches it to her chest as she sits down next to him.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” She begins, pulling the envelope open and sliding the paper out from inside. She hands it to Alexander and smiles at him.

Alexander carefully opens the paper - it’s obvious how much it means to Eliza - and is shocked when he sees his own handwriting reflected to him.

_To Elizabeth Schuyler,_

_I have told you, and I told you truly that I love you too much. You engross my thoughts too entirely to allow me to think of anything else—you not only employ my mind all day, but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. ‘Tis a pretty story indeed that I am to be thus monopolized, by a little nut-brown maid like you—and from a statesman and a soldier metamorphosed into a puny lover. I believe in my soul you are an enchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment. To drop figure my lovely girl, you become dearer to me every moment. I am more and more unhappy and impatient under the hard necessity that keeps me from you, and yet the prospect lengthens as I advance._

Alexander looks up from the letter to stare into Eliza’s shining eyes. He swallows, “Angelica told me you burnt all my letters once I published the post.”

She nods, looking over his shoulder as he scans the rest of the letter. It was one of the first letters he had ever written to her.

“I burned a lot of the things you wrote me,” She carefully takes the letter from his hand, “But I couldn’t bring myself to burn this one. You’re words, Alexander, the way you write. Reading this was a comfort when I needed it. I couldn’t just throw that away.” She presses the paper down with her hands, the parchment straightening under her fingers.

She folds the letter and places it back into the envelope and then turns on the couch to further face him. Eliza grabs his hands, pulling them to hold in her lap.

“Alexander, we’ve been through a lot.” Eliza starts, “We’ve been through so much heartache, and at one time I thought I could never forgive you, but I was being selfish-”

“No, you-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” She chastises, but he sees her smile, “I realized that the only thing more hurtful than you cheating on me, was the thought of you never being in my life again. Thinking about not getting to see you,” She runs a hand over his jaw, “Touch you,” and pecks a gentle kiss to his lips, “and kiss you was too much for me to bear. I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you at the winter party my sisters threw, and I won’t stop loving you."

Alexander feels overwhelmed. His thoughts stray to Thomas and then to Eliza and then back to Thomas. He’s so stuck, unable to budge, and it’s killing him. It’s unfair to all of them that he doesn't know what he wants, and it makes him feel sick to know he’s subjecting Eliza to his faults once more.

She deserves better.

“I love you too, Eliza, and I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, leaning forward to press his warm lips against hers. She sighs into the kiss, pressing back up towards him. Alexander deepens the kiss, threading his fingers through the short baby hairs at the nap of Eliza’s neck, just short enough to escape her braid.

Eliza’s fingers tangled in his own knotty hair, rubbing against his scalp as she grants him access to her mouth. He trails a hand down her neck, rubbing over cool skin and gooseflesh. He continues down until he’s cupping her chin, gently tilting her head back and pushing further into the kiss.

Her hands follow a familiar path down his back, mapping out the distinct muscles and bones. Eliza’s hands are one of Alexander’s favourite features of hers. They’re so unlike his own, small and gentle - knuckles giving way to slender feminine fingers. Her nails are painted blue, like the colour of her crop top, but with a single silver heart on the fourth finger. The ring finger.

Alexander eventually breaks the kiss, eyes wide - mouth red and swollen - and an uncomfortable situation beginning in his pants. He’s heaving, body cornering Eliza’s in the corner of the couch. She trails her hand across his cheek, smoothing her fingers across his beard.

“I love you,” He says breathless, eyes pleading with hers - for something he doesn’t even know.

She smiles, dimples forming in the corner of her cheeks, “I love you too, Alexander.”

He pulls back, standing from the couch, and subtly rearranging the problem in his pants. “I’ve got to get back to the dorm,” He begins, putting his phone in his back pocket, “My paper for Washington is due when we get back, and I still have so much I need to finish.”

Eliza stands too, pulling him into a hug, her petite arms encircling his waist. When she pulls back, she pecks a quick kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry about it, Alex. Your grades are important. And I know how much you want to impress Dr. Washington,”

He sputters at that, but she laughs it off, “Even if you refuse to admit it, I know. Now get back to your dorm and kick some ass.”

“We’ll hang out soon, I promise,” Alexander says, “Maybe another date?”

“That sounds perfect,” Eliza replies, kissing Alexander one last time, before all but pushing him out the door.

The thought of riding the stuffy elevator - even for just three floors - makes Alexander feel entirely too uncomfortable. He opts to take the stairs, taking them two at a time in an effort to j _ust get out of this building already._

Alexander uses the 15-minute walk home to think about how in the hell he’s going to choose between Thomas and Eliza.

He thinks about the moment he realized he was in love with Eliza.

 _“Where are you taking me?” He asked Angelica as she linked their arms together and began walking him across the room. Her eyes twinkled like the lights above them as she smiled at him, “I’m about to change your life.”_   
_  
__He narrowed his eyes at her but felt himself smile back anyway, “Alright then, lead the way.” She pulled him across the room and he followed silently._

 _It was a second later that he laid eyes on her. Her dark hair was pulled back and she kept looking nervously over at Angelica and him. He’d always prided himself on his words. His ability to manipulate language to get his point across. It was in that moment though, the moment he first laid eyes on her, that words failed him for the first time. Her eyes shone like candlelight in the darkness of the room as she glanced back over at them. A few steps later and they were only feet apart. The beautiful girl in the blue dressed turned towards them as they approached her, and Alexander saw her flash a stunning, albeit somewhat nervous smile. Angelica released his arm and the girl in front of them sat her cup down and curtseyed, “Elizabeth Schuyler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”_   
  
_The last name Schuyler didn’t escape him, and as he tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear, Alexander turned towards Angelica. “Schuyler?” He asked quizzically._   
  
_“Eliza’s my sister.” Angelica smiled at the two of them, her intelligent eyes bouncing between them before lingering on Eliza. Alexander watched her raise an eyebrow and then Eliza spoke._   
  
_“Thank you for coming. I’m sure they are better things that you could be doing.” Eliza smiled as she spoke and he felt trapped in the upward twist of her lips._   
  
_“If it takes me failing college for us to have met, it will have been worth it.” He said, putting on his most charming smile._   
  
_Alexander watched as Angelica gently laid a hand on her sister’s arm, “I’ll leave you to it.” She murmured, voice sounding strained over the loud music. He watched as Angelica turned to walk away and then his eyes found Eliza._   
_  
_ “ _Shall we?” He asked, offering his arm. Eliza flushed, letting him link their arms together and pulling her off into the crowd._

And he thinks of the moment he realized he was in love with Thomas.

 _“And my favourites are over there.” Thomas said as he pointed to two trees that lie adjacent to the house, “Tulip Poplars. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”_   
  
_Alexander glanced over at the trees and then cast his gaze back to Thomas. “They are.”_   
  
_He focused on Thomas, whose attention seemed to be caught on the Poplars. He was looking at them fondly and with a distant look in his eyes as if he was remembering a time from long ago._   
  
_“The Poplar is the tallest hardwood species of the eastern North American forest.” Thomas began to explain the trees to Alexander, and as much as he wanted to pay attention, he was distracted. He was distracted by Thomas._   
  
_The Virginian was facing away from Alexander - eyes on the trees - and gesturing with his hands as he talked. At one point, Thomas must have said something amusing because a soft smile broke across his face. Alexander stared at the man, entrapped by his beauty, grace, and knowledge. Thomas glanced over his shoulder to look at Alexander, and their eyes met. And that was when Alexander knew. The moment their eyes meet, Alexander knew for sure._   
  
_He was in love with Thomas Jefferson._   
  
_He was in love with Thomas Jefferson. The feeling from before that he couldn’t place? It was love. He was in love with Thomas Jefferson._   
  
_Alexander expected the panic to flood his body, expected anxiety to sit in his stomach, expected bile to rise in his throat at the realization. He expected to be scared._   
  
_But Thomas was still looking at him, eyes cast over his shoulder and a gentle smile on his face. He stared at the Virginian in front of him, and Alexander found that he was not scared. He was just in love._   
_  
__The panic and confusion would surely come later but in that moment, with Thomas’s kind eyes on him, all Alexander felt was relief._

Alexander sighed loudly, leaning against the wall of some random building, trying to catch his breath. He was right in Virginia. The panic and confusion was definitely hitting him right about now.

He rolled his eyes and continued down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next:The Bar
> 
> Alexander's love letter comes from an actual [letter](https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-27-02-0001-0003) from Hamilton to Eliza.


	24. The Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion and alcohol mostly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally dragged myself out of my hole in order to post this! It's unbetaed for the moment, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your amazing comments.

Alexander stands, pushing his chair back from the table, and grabbing his laptop off of the table. He runs a hand through his less than clean hair and pushes the chair back to the table. The cute lady at the table next to him shoots him a shy smile and Alex bites his lip. He’s so tempted to slide up next to her, run his fingers through her bleach blonde hair, and kiss the shyness right off her mouth. He doesn’t do that, though, instead he just smiles back and walks towards the exit. 

His love life is a little too complicated to be bringing in new partners at the moment. The librarian waves at Alex as he leaves. He waves back, butt hitting the door and pushing it open. 

Alexander steps outside and the dark night invites him. He walks, quick paced steps, towards his dorm room. It takes him a little less than ten minutes to get there. Alex takes the steps two at a time, rushing towards his dorm. He unlocks the door with shaky hands, and then shuts and locks the door behind him. 

Alex checks the time on his phone, and then hurries out of his clothing and into the shower. The water is scalding on his body, but inviting. He rushes through his usual routine. Conditioner, shampoo, body wash. 

He rinses himself off once more and then steps out of the shower. Droplets of water falling from his hair and down onto the shower mat. He wraps a towel around his waist and one around his head. 

Alex glances up when he hears a knock on the bathroom door. “Who's there?”

“It’s me, Alex.” John’s voice is clear through the door, “Are you coming with us tonight?

Alexander opens the door, looking up to meet John’s eye. He shrugs, “I suppose.” A pause,  I didn’t take a shower just to stay in all night.” 

John’s smile lights up like the New York skyline, “Good, get dressed and let’s go! I promised Lafayette that we’d be meeting him in like twenty.” He looks back down at his phone and his fingers fly across the screen like lightning. 

John glances up from the phone to find Alex still standing there, staring at him. “Get dressed, Jesus, Alex. We’re going to be late.”

Alexander holds his hands up in a silent show of surrender and John’s face softens. “You don’t have to dress up. Just throw on some tight jeans and that white tee shirt you stole from Laf. Tonight isn’t about getting you laid, so you don’t have to worry about impressing anyone, it’s about getting you drunk so you can calm the fuck down. Okay?”

Something that was deep within Alex relaxes and he nods, “Yeah okay.” and he turns towards his dresser, pulling out a pair of worn denim jeans and the shirt John mentioned. It’s when he pulls out the shirt that his eye catches on a purple t shirt in his drawer. 

It’s not his, but he remembers who he stole it from.  He swallows harshly and chances a glance back at Thomas’s bed. He doesn’t even know if the Virginian has been home since the first day they got back, and it makes him anxious to think about Thomas actively avoiding him. 

Alex can’t help but wonder where he’s staying, if he’s not staying here. 

He shakes himself loose of the wandering thoughts and focuses on getting ready. The way Alexander sees it, is the sooner he gets ready, the sooner he can get wasted and forget about all of this. Probably (definitely) not the healthiest, but he’s kind of running out of options here. 

One foot into his boxers, then the other. Pull them up. Jeans next. One foot then the other. Pull them up. Shirt over the head, belt. Socks, converse. 

He takes the hair tie from it’s permanent position on his wrist and uses it to pull back the wet mess of hair that threatens to suffocate him. 

John sits, relaxed, on Alex’s bed, flipping through one of the many government books that lie there. He looks up when Alex flops down ungraciously on the bed next to him. 

“Are you ready to go?” John asks, casual enough that Alexander feels a flair of envy. He wishes he could get out of his own head for long enough to relax. 

Alexander looks up from the bed to smile at John cheekily. “As ready as I’ll ever be, love.” He winks for added effect and finds that John’s returning laugh makes something in him feel complete. He leans up, on instinct, and presses his lips against John’s. 

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but those few seconds are peace. All the comotion, doubt, and struggle that’s been shifting through Alexander’s head since he got back to New York (before that even) pauses. John shifts forward, drawing Alex’s lip into his mouth and humming softly. 

They break a second later, foreheads still touching, and Alexander’s mouth breaks into a grin. He huffs a short laugh and sees John rolls his eyes. 

“Let’s go, you dummy.”

The walk to club is about twenty minutes, and it’s a walk Alexander could make in his sleep. The pros of having a best friend who has an insanely rich father whose hobbies include sending John a check each month and then pretending like he doesn’t exist, is that he doesn’t have to make the walk at all. 

John calls a cab, and a few minutes later, the familiar car pulls up alongside the curb. Alex smiles and thanks John when he opens the door for him, and then the two slide into the backseat together. 

John gives the address of the club to the driver and then the two settle into a peaceful silence. Alex’s phone vibrates and he checks the new message.

_ From Eliza <3: Hey! Are we still on for coffee tomorrow morning? Let me know :) _

He feels John’s eyes on him and shakes off the uncomfortable feeling that rises in his stomach as he composes a reply. 

_ To Eliza <3: Yes! We can meet there at 10? _

Alex locks his phone and turns to look at John. “Whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.” John replies without missing a beat, and Alexander rolls his eyes. 

His phone vibrates and he reads the message, knowing that John’s eyes are on him the whole time. 

_ From Eliza <3: Okay! Love you!  _

He types out a quick “I love you too” and sends it, before turning his sharp gaze back to John. 

“I know you well enough to know when you’re not saying something.” He insists, “If there’s something you want to say, just say it. I won’t be mad.”

John’s frown deepens and he sighs, “I’m just wondering why you’re still with Eliza if you’re in love with Thomas. That’s all.” 

Alexander closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the car seat. He should have seen this coming. It’s the same question he keeps asking himself. 

“Because I’m in love with Eliza.” He answers, trying to keep his voice even so it doesn’t sound like he’s on the defensive. 

“But are you though?” Comes John’s sharp reply. If Alex wasn’t on the defensive before, he is now. He feels a mix of anger and shame course through his blood, inviting him to attack in the best way he knows how: His words. 

“Like  _ you’d  _ know anything about love.” He hisses, freezing the second the words leave his mouth. He hadn’t meant that. The hurt look in John’s eyes is enough to make him immediately deflate. “I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean that.”

John gives him a smile and shakes his head, “It’s okay, I know. I didn’t mean to get onto your case like that, I’m just looking out for you.”

Alexander sighs, resting his head on John’s shoulder, “I know and I love you for it.”

John hums into his hair and Alex let’s himself get lost in the moment. In his best friend’s arms, it’s like the outside world freezes, and Alexander can finally  _ breathe _ . 

Alexander can feel the beat of the music before they even pull up alongside the club. It infects him, pumping through his blood like adrenaline.

He climbs out of the car, taking John’s hand and walking to the front of the line. John’s on a first name basis with the guy that owns the club, and that’s perk number two for Alex. The bouncer doesn’t even check their ID’s, just takes one look at John’s freckled face and lets them inside.

The darkness consumes them as they make their way into the club and towards the bar. The lights above them flicker on, changing with the beat of the music. John’s hand is wrapped tightly around Alex’s as they force themselves through the grinding group of people. 

They eventually end up at the bar, and Alexander smiles when he sees Hercules holding a tray of what he hopes is tequila shots. He follows him towards a back table, where they see Lafayette eating a plate of cheese fries. Lafayette’s eyes widen when he sees the two of them and he quickly waves them over with dramatic arm gestures that make Alex snort with laughter.

Alex slides into the booth next to Lafayette, and Hercules and John take the other side. He remembers being in an eerily familiar situation not too long ago. 

_ What seems like hours later, they meet back up with John and Mary and grab a booth in the far corner. Alexander feels like he’s drenched in sweat and he knows Thomas is no better. His heart is still pounding from their last dance, and he gratefully accepts the drink that Mary pushes in front of him. _ __   
__   
_ “Thomas come with me to get some shots?” Mary says, and grabs his hand. She pulls him from the booth and in the direction of the bar. _ __   
__   
_ Alexander waves at Thomas and then turns his attention back to John. He’s been staying at Monticello for a week, and he’s only spoken to the man on a couple of occasions. _ __   
__   
_ He’s about to open his mouth to say something- to make small talk -, when John speaks first. “Can I ask you something?” He says, voice loud and over the music. _ __   
__   
_ Alexander’s not sure what John could want to know, but he’s curious so he shakes his head yes. _ __   
_   
_ __ “It’s fake, isn’t it?”

He shakes himself out of the memory and focuses on the people here in front of him at this moment. 

Alex picks up a shot and holds it out in front of him, “To best friends and Spring Breaks.”

“Cheers!” Lafayette says from the other side of the table as their shot glasses clink together. Alexander tosses the shot back, the taste of the tequila burning his throat in the most pleasant way. 

“Alex, come dance with me!” Lafayette begs, and it’s been so long since he’s seen his friend, Alex can’t decline the offer. 

He takes Lafayette’s hand and pulls him out onto the dance floor. 

The night blends together seamlessly and a couple hours later, Alexander realizes how exhausted he is. His feet hurt as he sits down at the booth. John’s sitting across from him, sipping from a bottle of water, “You cashing out?” John asks quietly. 

Alexander nods. He’s not drunk, but he’s not entirely sober either. 

“Alright, let’s go then.” 

Alex follows John out of the bar, stopping briefly to pay their tab and say goodbye to Hercules and Lafayette. 

The fresh air blowing in his face sobers Alex up relatively quickly, but it does nothing for his exhaustion. He stumbles after John into the cab and buries his face in the crook of his friend’s neck. He smells like cologne and honey, a combination that makes Alexander feel at home.

The ride back to Alex’s dorm is quiet, the sound of the radio playing softly in the background, second only to the sound of John’s breathing. 

They pull up at the edge of the sidewalk in no time and Alex stifles a yawn, “You want me to walk you in?” John asks and Alex shakes his head no. 

“I’ll be okay, see you later.”

He stumbles into his dorm building, climbing the stairs slowly until he reaches his door. 

Quietly he inserts his keys and pushes the door open. He takes a quiet step inside and immediately trips over a pile of books in his way. He curses, reaching out to steady himself, and ends up pulling down the objects on the shelf above him. He winces at the loud sound and groans when the light above him turns on.

“Are you serious?” Thomas’s voice hisses from over Alexander’s shoulder.

It’s one of the first times they’ve spoken since they got back from Virginia, and Alex feels butterflies swimming in his stomach. 

“Sorry,” He says simply, hoping Thomas will just be annoyed and go back to bed. 

His words do the opposite of what he was wishing and they seem to piss Thomas off more. 

“Some of us have to sleep, Alexander.” He spits the name, “I have stuff to do in the morning. Not all of us can stay up late and get drunk and then just stumble home whenever we want!” Thomas’s words carry a certain viciousness in them that Alexander’s never heard before, even when they hated each other, Thomas never got so angry with him. 

His mouth falls open and he immediately wants to defend himself, “Thomas-”

“Don’t even bother. I don’t have time for your shit.” Jefferson spits and heads out the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

Alexander looks up at the ceiling and curses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The Confrontation (!!)


	25. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter James Madison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! You guys thought it'd actually be Jefferson & Hamilton. You should know me better than that by now ;)  
>  Let me know what you guys think!

When Alexander groans awake, he notices three things at once. The first thing he notices is the complete silence that fills his dorm. The second thing he notices is how cold it is. He’s gotten so used to waking up next to a warm body. Whether he was curled up in Virginia with Thomas, or sleeping his problems away in John’s arms, he’s so used to being wrapped up with someone. It’s strange, for once, waking up in an empty bed. He doesn’t like it. The third thing is the blinding light that shines across his face.

He sits up slowly, letting the blue comforter tumble down around his waist. Alexander bends backwards, letting his back pop, and lays his head back down onto his pillow. Exhaustion weighs heavily in his bones, a fatigue that no amount of time or sleep can solve. He yawns stiffly, and rolls out of bed. His feet plant on the cold wooden floor and Alexander can’t help the sigh that forces its way out of his body. His life is such a monotonous routine at this point, the simple thought of leaving his dorm room is almost unbearable. The only light that shines through his gloomy day is the thought of seeing Eliza.

He glances at his alarm clock and plans out his morning in his head. He has to leave enough time to walk to the coffee shop, but even with a shower planned in, he’s got at least fifteen minutes to kill. Alexander takes one look at his side of the dorm and decides what he has to do.

He starts tidying his side of the room by making his bed. He technically should probably wash his sheets, but Alex figures he can push that off for a couple more days. It’s not like he’s really been sleeping in his bed recently. He shuffles around collecting dirty clothes from his side and piling them into a duffel bag. Alex will have to take them to the laundry room before he meets up with Eliza.

Alexander climbs into the shower, quickly scrubbing through his normal routine. He turns the water on as hot as he can stand it; the stream turning his skin bright red, and stands underneath the waterfall.

The water burns and Alexander uses the sharp pain to focus on nothing. The pain makes his mind pleasantly numb, and he allows himself to sink into the feeling. He leans against the back wall and rubs his hand vigorously across his face.

He stands there, numb and reeling, for a good ten minutes before he’s finally able to drag himself out of the shower. Alexander wraps a thin but warm towel around his waist and dresses in the clothes he had picked out earlier.

He pulls his hair back into his signature bun and grabs his duffel bag from beside the bed. He rushes out of the door, not even bothering to lock it behind him.

Alex stops by the laundry room on his way out and loads a washer with his clothes, tucking his duffle bag beside the washing machine and putting his quarters in the machine. He adds detergent and starts the cycle before making his way out of the dorm building.

For a second, Alexander thinks about splurging on a cab to the coffeehouse, but then he remembers the six thousand dollars sitting in a duffle bed under his dorm bed and decides against it. Whether or not he likes it, Alexander needs that money. He’s been so preoccupied trying to decide between Eliza and Thomas that he completely forgot why he  _ can’t  _ be with Thomas. He can’t get paid for fake dating Thomas when the majority of the time in Virginia wasn’t fake. He doesn’t deserve to get paid for fake kissing and flirting with Thomas when he was enjoying it.

It feels morally wrong to accept the money if he plans on dating Thomas, but at the same time he  _ needs  _ that money. Even though the six thousand dollars will get him through this semester, he has to think ahead. He’s still got another two years of college and if he wants to finish them at Columbia, he can’t really afford to splurge on anything.

He pulls his thin jacket tighter against his body and starts the walk towards Eliza’s favourite coffee shop.

It’s a quiet little hole in the wall where they ended up after a night of drinking. Alexander had fallen asleep in Angelica’s bed, and Eliza was cuddled right beside him. Remember that night makes something deep inside his chest ache. He knows that no matter how close they’ve become, he’s never going to get that back. She will never look at him with that innocent sparkle in her eye, completely unaware of what he was capable of. What he was going to do. What he was going to do to her, to  _ them _ .

He opens the door to the coffee shop and steps inside. The delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee floods his nose, swimming through his head, and making his fingers twitch with need. He spots Eliza, sitting by the window in the same spot they used to sit at when they were dating before.

He notices the two cups of coffee sitting in front of her and makes his way over.

“Hey babe,” He says, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and sits down across from her.

She smiles so sweetly that Alex’s heart feels full. “Hey!” She greets him, reaching across the table to enclose his hands in hers. “I got you a coffee,” She nods towards the extra large coffee that sits on the table in front of him

“Thank you, ‘Liza.” He responds, squeezing her hands in his, and then leaning across the table to kiss her again. Her lips are soft and gentle against his and the feeling literally makes him ache.

He pulls back and gives her another smile.

“Did you have fun last night?” She asks, voice ripe and sweet, like citrus. “Lafayette sent me a Snapchat of you doing shots.”

Alexander laughs at that, the sound slipping through his mouth, “I had a great time.” He says.

The crease that only appears when she’s concerned deepens between her eyebrows. “Is everything alright?” She asks, reaching across the table to rest her hand on top of his. “You seem quiet.”

He looks up at her and frowns. It’d be so easy. It’d be so easy to just spill everything that’s been coursing through his mind. Everything that’s been keeping him up so late.

“Actually, there is something.” He starts. Alexander is so tempted to just spill everything. He’s dying to tell her, to let her know what he’s struggling with. Alex wants to tell her that he’s in love with Thomas, prayers she understands. He goes to open his mouth, but then she speaks.

“You know you can tell me anything,” She says, “I love you.”

And he freezes, the words dying on his tongue.

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you a lot.”

The crease depends for a second and it’s like she can see right through his facade. For a second, Alexander thinks that maybe Eliza knows. Maybe she’s known this whole time. But then she smiles again, bringing his hands - tangled in hers - up to her lips and kisses them.

“I love you too, Alex.”

He’s so fucked.

\--

Alexander leaves a couple minutes later and takes his coffee with him. He heads to the library because surprisingly or not, he didn’t get much done since he got back, and he didn’t get much done in Virginia either.

He enters the library, scanning his student ID to get buzzed in. The librarian, an older woman named Mrs. Filner, smiles at Alexander the second he steps inside. He’s spent so many long nights in here, literally falling asleep sometimes at the tables, that she knows him by name.

“Alex!” She waves at him, dog earring the page in her book and then closing it. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I didn’t think you were leaving for spring break.”

Alex hesitates for a second, “It’s, um, a bit of a long story.”

She slides back and crosses her legs, picking up her mug and taking a sip, “Trust me, Sweets, I have plenty of time.”

And that’s how Alexander ends up behind the librarian’s desk, eating a box of her thin mints and spilling all his personal details. He explains everything. Cheating on Eliza, going to Virginia, seeing Washington, how he’s stuck between loving Thomas and loving Eliza, and how he can’t love Thomas because he literally just got money for fake dating him. When he finishes, and the word vomit stops flowing like lava from his mouth, he looks up to see Mrs. Filner staring at him with her eyebrows arched and her mouth open a bit.

“Wow,” She hums, “Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament.”

Alexander nods, “That would be an understatement. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to pick.”

She closes her eyes a moment and then opens them again, “Can I give you some serious advice?”

“Of course.”

“I think that you should pick Thomas. This entire time you talked about your situation, every time you speak about Thomas your eyes go starry and you lose your train of thought. To me, it seems like you love him more.”

Alexander swallows and nods, standing up and handing her the empty box of cookies. “I’ll think about it, thanks.” He murmurs, “I should go, this paper isn’t going to write itself."

She gives him a gentle smile, one that reminds Alex of his mother, and waves goodbye.

He all but collapses into his normal seat at his normal table. It’s right next to an outline in the back corner of the library. Close enough to the outlet but not too far away from the history books and biographies.

Alexander pulls open his computer and pulls open his latest rough draft for Washington’s class.

It’s technically only supposed to be a few pages but Alexander’s already well over that amount. He just has to figure out how best to approach the end of it.

He starts typing slowly, and his fingers pick up speed as the words flow from his brain. Once he hits his stride, the words begin to come out much faster than he was expecting.

It’s as he hits his stride that exhaustion begins sweeping through every inch of his body. His eyes flutter and his fingers stutter on the keys.

It’s just when he thinks about closing his eyes for a second, that the chair in front of him scrapes against the ground, and someone sits down.

Alexander, expecting Aaron Burr or maybe John Jay, is surprised when he makes eye contact with the second to last person he ever expected to see, James Madison.

The first thing he notices is how uncomfortable the man looks. And then he remembers something else. A certain party game in Virginia.

_ James Madison was looking at him with an unreadable expression (no surprise there), and Alexander couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He leaned forward slowly, watching through half closed eyes as Madison did the same, and eventually their lips met. _ __   
__   
_ The kiss was gentle and sweet. Alexander sighed happily (he’s always been fond of kissing) and pressed in deeper. The kiss itself probably only lasts around ten seconds, and then Alexander was pulling away with a frown. _ __   
_   
_ __ It’s not that kissing Madison was bad. It’s just that Madison wasn’t the Southern Republican that he wants to be kissing.

Much like that night, James’ face is unreadable. He doesn’t speak so Alexander does first, “It’s nice to see you, James.”

Something flickers in those dark eyes and Alexander immediately feels his shield rising.

“What the  _ hell  _ is wrong with you?”

Alexander scoff, “What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with  _ you _ .”

James sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t get shitty with you.” He sighs, voice sounding exhausted, “I was just going to talk to you.”

Alexander shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “What were you going to talk to me about?”

James levels him with a wholly unimpressed look. “I’m going to be blunt. If you ever want Thomas to forgive you, you have to get your shit together.”

Alexander’s gaze drops to the table.

“He isn’t going to wait around for you forever. If you want a chance with him, then you need to get your head out of your ass and figure out what you want.”

Alexander sighs and nods slowly, “How in the hell am I supposed to figure it out what I want when I don’t know?”

James reaches across the table and snaps his laptop shut, “You’re in love with him. He deserves to know that.” A pause, “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

It’s the second time he’s heard something like that  in 50 minutes, and it sort of resonates with him.

“How do I look at him?” He asks quietly, and decides that if James says anything close to what the librarian says, then he’ll take it as a sign.

“You look at him like you’ve never wanted anything more.” James explains, “You love them both, but I know that you know that you love one of them more.”

Alexander glances up into James’ eyes, sees how honest they are, and stands from the table.

“I have to go.” Alexander says quickly, packing up his things. He knows what he needs to do, and he knows where he needs to go.

Alexander quickly leaves the library, taking the steps two on the way out. He all but runs the familiar path. Climbing up the building’s stairs and half out of breath by the time he reaches the door he needs.

Alexander stands in front of it, and raises his hand, knocking twice. The door opens, and he looks up into the beautiful eyes in front of him.

“Hey,” He says, almost shyly, “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Confession


	26. The Confession(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession and then a more surprising one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you lovelies didn't expect this chapter so soon (or what happens in it). 
> 
> 4 days,,, I think that's a new updating record?
> 
> Also, someone way back mentioned they wanted the Jefferson All American Rejects flashback, so you're welcome in advance :*  
> (Shorter than most of my chapters, but that's because we're building up, and the slowburn is ALMOST over)

Alexander does not remember who said it, but he remembers hearing that there is one moment in everyone’s life. He can not remember exactly what it said, but he knows the basic idea behind the theory. It’s that this moment is the one that changes everything. Your motivations, your values, your long-term goals, your future path. That moment changes everything. You don’t really know that it’s your moment when it happens, but you can figure it out later on when looking back.

Alex has always assumed that his moment was when his mother died. It was in that moment that Alexander's whole life changed. He was set forward on a path that he never could have expected. Without his mother’s death, Alex wouldn’t have moved in with his cousin who killed himself. He wouldn’t have had to write his way out of the hurricane force winds that threatened to toss him in the water.

The whole theory is that there’s  _ one  _ moment that changes everything.

Well now, that he’s given it some more thought, Alexander thinks that theory is a load of bullshit. He is more of a believer in the idea that every action can change everything. He’s had tons of moments that change things for him.

Like, for example, this moment right now.

He hadn’t had as much time to think on the walk to Eliza’s apartment as he wanted. And then she was opening the door and looking up at him with those beautiful sparkling eyes.

“Alex, what are you doing here? Did we have plans that I forgot about?” She asks, smiling at him and then looking down at the watch on her wrist.

He feels white hot dread course through his veins. He knows how badly this is going to hurt her, and he can just hope and pray that she doesn’t cry. Out of everything he is not prepared for, it’s going to be her tears that kills him the most.

“We need to talk for a minute.” He says, voice monotonous as if to hide the worry and dread that fills him completely, threatening to strangle him in its cold embrace.

Her eyes furrow and she pulls the door open further and gestures towards the couch. Alexander takes a seat there, rubbing his hands on the smooth, dark material, as Eliza sits down on the chair across from him. She crosses her legs and rests her hands on the tops of her thigh.

“Is everything okay?” She asks slowly, “Your kind of scaring me, Alex.”

He takes a deep breath and then spits out the words that are going to change everything, “I think we should break up.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, “What?”

“I know this must be hard for you to hear, but I don’t feel a spark between us anymore, Eliza, and I think you should know that I’m in love with someone else.”

Eliza sits there, face frozen with unreadable emotion, and then she tosses her head back, curls falling across her face, and begins to laugh.

Alexander looks at her blankly.

Eliza snorts with laughter, pressing her hand to her mouth and shaking her head, “Thank God.”

He looks at her blankly again, eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

Eliza stands up and walks over to sit down next to him on the couch. She grabs his hands and holds them in her lap, pressed against her soft thighs. He’s surrounded in a second by the reassuring smell of her lavender perfume. A gift from Lafayette, he thinks.

“Alexander, I feel the same way. I’ve known for a bit that this wasn’t going to workout between us. I was going to bring it up with you after you turned your paper in for Washington. I know how stressed you’ve been, and I wanted to wait. I didn’t know how you’d take it and I needed you to put your studies before anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love you. I’ll probably always love you, actually. But I just don’t think we’re good together. We both deserve more than we can give each other.”

It seems like, in that moment, everything changes. One of his biggest problems has just resolved itself.

“Now then,” She smiles at him,  “You better tell me who’s stolen my little lion’s heart.” Eliza says, squeezing his hands in hers.

“I’m in love with Thomas Jefferson, and he doesn’t love me back.”

Her eyebrows shoot up to the top of her forehead, and then she shakes her head and smiles, “I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t know all the specifics but I do know that communication is key. So whatever's going on, just  _ talk  _ to him.” A pause, “Listen, I do still want to be friends. Also, sorry about Angelica and her threats. She’s bluffing, because she’s just protective. Angelica loves you as much as I do.”

She pulls him into a tight hug, enveloping him in her arms and in her scent. Her hand gently caresses his hair and she hums softly, and comfortingly under her breath. He gets lost in the gentle nature of her embrace and forgets for a second about how much his heart hurts.

Eventually, he convinces her that he really is okay, and she walks him to the door. She hugs him again, and presses a little kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll talk you to tomorrow, okay?” She smiles at him in question.

He returns her smile and nods, “Of course,”

Alexander leaves with a deep breath and watches as she shuts the door behind him.

It’s as he’s walking back to his dorm that Alexander fully realizes how much weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He has made his choice, and at this moment in time, he is bound to think that he made the right one.

He unlocks his dorm room and walks inside, hoping Thomas is home, and unsurprised to find that he is not. Alexander huffs out a sigh, looking at Thomas’s side of the room and feeling the pain from before settling back deep into his chest.

He thinks back to Madison’s words, and it makes him feel even worse. He has made his choice, and he knows what he wants, but he doesn’t think that it is enough.

Alex has already fucked this up too much to repair. Thomas deserves more than Alex could ever give him.

Alexander collapses onto his bed and Let's out a pained sigh.

But at the same time, he is in love! He wants to shout it from the rooftops and write to James back in Nevis and tell him, and scream and jump around, and punch a hole through the wall.

Loving Thomas just makes him feel so much.

So much good, and so much bad.

He grabs his phone, desperate to remember the good times back in Virginia, and begins looking through pictures that he took in Virginia.

He looks at the sleepy selfie of him and Thomas, and then the one from before they went to Madison’s party. Then there’s...

Oh God.

There’s a photo that he hasn’t seen before. It’s a photo from the night of Thomas’s house party. He doesn’t remember the particular moment, but he thinks it was just after the game of beer Pong. It’s Thomas, standing shirtless in the living room, chiseled abs looking deliciously edible. He’s looking at Alexander with a soft look in his eye that screams affection.

And then there’s Alexander standing next to him, a hand resting on those abs, and a look of want in his eyes.

He doesn’t know who took the picture, but he knows that it makes him want to scream.

Alexander locks his phone, quickly, rolling over in his bed and pulling the blanket over him. Closes his eyes and thinks back to the first time he felt anything other than contempt for his roommate.

  _The rain was falling from the sky, lightening sparking across the sky, followed by the loudest cracks of thunder. Alexander was at the library, just finished up a study session with Aaron Burr, Angelica Schuyler, and James Madison. They all, unfortunately, had intro to Public Policy together, and there was only so much of Burr and Angelica’s bickering and Madison’s dirty looks that he could stand in a day._

_ He pulled his hood over his head and stared out into the courtyard. The sidewalk was almost completely flooded with water that had yet to make its way to the drains, and Alex shivered at the thought of running through it on his way back to his dorm. _

_ His dorm that he shared with Thomas Jefferson. _

_ What a fucking joke this universe was. _

_ Alexander shoved his laptop into his backpack and plugged his headphones into his ears. He pulled open the library door and jogged out into the pouring rain. His normal walk back to the dorm was roughly ten minutes, but with the quick jogging steps, he managed to make it back in eight. A new personal record. _

_ With each step, the water splashed up his legs as the rain water drenched the rest of his body. He ran to the front door of his dorm building and pulled it open, stepping into the dry interior room. The dorm officer that was sitting at the front desk gave Alex a smile and took his umbrella for him, hanging it from a shelf closest to the door. _

_ He thanked her and then took off towards the stairs, taking them two at a time so he could get to his dorm and finally get changed out of the freezing clothes he was wearing. _

_ It, thankfully, wasn’t locked so Alexander pushed the door open in a hurry and then he froze when the scene in front of him registered. _

_ There was Thomas Jefferson, shirtless, eyes closed and dancing to The All American Rejects. _

_ Alex took in every long line of his ridiculously fit body. The tight and defined abs, the sharp V of his hips, the happy trail of dark hair that traveled from his navel and disappeared in his shorts, the firmness of his ass, the big bulge in the front of his too tight basketball shorts. _

_ His mouth felt dry, watching Thomas lift his hands up above his head and shake his hips in a way that sent fire coursing through Alex’s veins. _

_ There was a thin sheen of sweet covering Thomas’s chest, and it made Alexander’s breath catch. He felt warm looking at Thomas, felt needy and affectionate in one. _

_ And then Thomas had to go and open his big fucking mouth. _

_ “What the fuck are you gawking at?” He hissed and Alexander rolled his eyes and escaped to the bathroom with a change of clothes. _

Alexander pushes the memory away, closes his eyes and attempts to find sleep.

It’s sometime later that he rolls back over, unable to find the oblivion that he craves so desperately. Alexander stands up, sneaks into Thomas’s bed and curls up under the Virginian’s comforter. The pillow smells soft like coconut and honey, and it makes Alex’s anxiety dissipate a small amount.

He curls around the pillow and sleep finally, blessedly, finds him.


	27. The Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh no Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Alex and a character that's not Eliza or Thomas getting intimate. (not like sex but kisses and stuff)

He feels nothing. It is sort of like the thing that makes him him, has been sucked out of him. It makes him feel equal parts relieved and like utter shit.

Alexander groans, rolling over and letting his eyes fall onto his own bed. Thomas’s ridiculous Egyptian sheets feel like Heaven beneath his fingers and against the rest of his skin. He feels cocooned in warmth and the scent of Thomas’s cologne. It reminds him of a time, not that long ago in Virginia, that sends shivers down his spine and makes his stomach flood with warmth. 

He feels his phone, which lays on the bed next to him, start vibrating incessantly. He groans and picks it up, seeing the flood of new messages from his group chat. 

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Guyyyyys, I needa get drunk tonight! Anybody want to go to Michael’s? _

From  **Herc** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Don’t you always need to get drunk? I get off work at 8, so we can meet there. _

From  **The Sweetest Sister** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Why do we always go to Michaels? Your girl has a new pair of shoes she needs to wear out dancing!! Let’s go to the new place on 5th? _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Peggy, you can dance at Michael’s, I heard the new place waters down their booze.  _

From **An Angel Up Above** to  **The Ham Squad** : _ I talked to Ali and she said that’s a bunch of shit. Apparently the guy who owns Michael’s made that up to keep business _

From  **The Sweetest Sister** to  **The Ham Squad** : _ EXACTLY! THANK YOU ANGELICA _

From  **Herc** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Let’s put it to a vote _

From  **Elizabeth <3** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ I’m inclined to agree with Peggy. I vote the place on 5th street.  _

From  **The Sweetest Sister** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ THE PLACE ON 5TH STREET _

From  **Herc** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ I don’t really care _

From  **The Sweetest Sister** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ If you don’t vote with me, Herc, I stg _

From  **Herc** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ um,,, _

From  **Herc** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Okay the place on 5th street.  _

From  **An Angel Up Above** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ You bitches already know I want the place on 5th street _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Ugh I hate you all _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ Alex PLEASE _

Alex smiles at the message on his screen, and types his reply.

From  **Alex** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ I don’t think my votes going to make much of a difference.  _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ PLEASE. YOU LOVE GOV’T  YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT EVERY VOTE MAKES A DIFFERENCE.  _

From  **Alex** to  **The Ham Squad** : _ Oh okay… _

From  **Alex** to  **The Ham Squad:** _ I vote for the place on 5th street.  _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** : _ …. _

From  **John** to  **The Ham Squad** :  _ You fucking asshole _

Alex chokes out a laugh as he reads the message. 

He locks his phone and gets up from Thomas’s bed. He stretches, the bones in his back popping, and yawns slowly. He’s got nothing to do until tonight, and he figures this is the perfect time to finish his paper for Washington. 

Who would have thought that a paper on John Locke could be so fucking complicated? 

Alex takes his laptop from the bed and moves it to his desk. There are papers scattered everywhere and for the first time in forever, the mess and disarray is kind of driving him crazy. He moves the different books on John Locke to the floor and then begins to go through the papers. He throws away twenty sticky notes with random reminders written on them, papers from last year’s dissertation, and a note from Lafayette about Washington’s butt in his new suit. 

It makes him laugh as he rereads it, though, and he supposes that was Lafayette’s intention.

Eventually his desk is much more put together, his pens are in their rightful spot - the ones that are out of ink are in the trash can, his papers are organized, and he’s ready to work on this paper. 

Alexander opens his laptop and brings open the latest draft of his word document. 

He begins typing, and unlike the twenty times he’s worked on it before, the words just start coming to him. He starts tracing out Locke’s known influence, and History’s thoughts of how he influenced the founding of a new country.

It is like everything suddenly makes sense to him, the words just flow from his fingertips like they’ve been in his mind this entire time. Like all along, he’s known the answer, but it’s just now floated to the surface. 

It’s three hours later when Alexander glances up from his now finished paper, that he realizes how focused he’s been on his paper and how much time has past. 

His stomach rumbles but the thought of eating makes him feel sick. 

Alexander still feels exhausted from last night and he lays down in Thomas’s bed and curls up under the comforter. The room is frigid around him and he pulls the soft blanket up around his chin. The cologne that clings to Thomas’s sheets reminds him of Virginia, reminds him of a particular night that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head. 

_ Alexander glanced up from beneath his lashes and smiled. He was tired, but he could never be too tired to kiss Thomas Jefferson. He leaned forward and connected their lips. It was gentle at first, but there was so much energy simmering beneath Alexander’s skin, that he soon pressed in desperately. _

_ Thomas’s tongue pushed into his mouth, and Alexander made this wrecked sound in the back of his throat. They kissed desperately, and Alexander was pleased when Thomas rolled over and spread his body on top of Alex’s. He felt hot all over. Thomas’s hands were everywhere: running up the sides of his body, twisting in his hair. His lips were everywhere too: kissing Alexander, depositing sweet kisses to his forehead, and then trailing hot kisses down his neck. He wanted to do this. Alexander wanted this so badly, that he literally could not imagine anything he wanted more. He wanted Thomas more than anything. More than he wanted to be president, more than he wanted to make money, more than he wanted to be remembered. _

_ It was dangerous and it was scary, but it was the truth, and not even Alexander could try to deny it. _

_ But as much as he wanted to do this, the alcohol was mostly gone from his body and Alexander felt exhausted to the bone. _

_ Thomas kissed him again, still desperately, but Alexander kissed back softly. He drew the kiss out, making it more relaxed and languid. Thomas broke away breathless, his dark brown eyes shining into Alexander’s. _

_ “We should get some sleep.” Thomas groaned, his voice hoarse and deep. Alexander noded with a yawn, and rolled over to rest his head on the top of Thomas’s chest. He was right on the edge of sleep, oblivion looming just in the distance.Thomas ran a gentle hand through Alex’s hair, and the smaller man made a noise of pleasure. It was a few seconds later that Alex whispered into the dark, “I’m so glad I’m here.” _

_ Thomas pressed a kiss to his hair, “I’m glad you’re here too, Alexander." _

The memory is so sweet in his thoughts, that happiness fills him and sleep quickly finds him. 

-

When Alexander wakes up for the second time, he feels twenty times better. He still feels like shit in more ways than one, but it’s like a bit of the anger and resentment that’s been weighing down on him disappears. He checks his phone and sees a new message from Lafayette. 

From  **Lafayette** :  _ Come over and get ready with us bitch _

He yawns and stands up, grabbing some clothes and shoving them in his to go bag. He ties his hair up in a low bun and then makes for the door, shutting and locking it behind him. 

The walk to Lafayette’s place only takes him about five minutes - he told Alex he had picked it especially because he was going to live so close to Alex’s dorm. 

He gets to the apartment and climbs the stairs quickly, knocking twice and then three times on the door. 

“Get in here!” He hears someone yell from behind the door. Alex rolls his eyes and opens the door, stepping inside.  

He sees Lafayette with his hair tied up in curlers, setting powder below his eyes and on the side of his face. Then he sees John wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. Alexander stops and looks at his ex-boyfriend, the sharp V the leads into his boxers and the trail of hair that falls from his navel. 

Then Hercules walks out from the bathroom completely nude. 

“Oh my God, put some clothes on!” Alex screams, covering his eyes with his hand and laughing. 

“Alex, mon ami, let me do your makeup!” Lafayette murmurs, coming over with his bag of makeup and forcing Alex to sit down with a hand on his shoulder. 

He closes his eyes as Lafayette starts applying mascara to his eyelashes and then patting his face with powder. 

Alex scoffs, letting Lafayette do whatever he wants with his face as Hercules starts to do his hair. 

“What are you wearing tonight?” John asks, sitting down next to him and watching as Lafayette begins brushing highlight over his cheekbones. 

Alex peeks open one eye to look at John, “It’s in there,” He gestures to his bag. 

John picks it up and starts looking through the clothes that Alexander had brought. 

“You can’t tell me you’re wearing this,” John scoffs, holding up his sweatshirt and ratty jeans. 

Alexander blinks.

“Oh hell no, Alex.” John responds, his face screwing up in distaste. 

John stands up and goes to Lafayette’s closet. He starts looking through it as Lafayette finishes his makeup. 

“Get in here and try this on,” John gestures to him and pulls him into the closet. 

Alexander follows him into the closet and slides into the clothing that John had picked out. It’s a pair of tight white jeans and a red and black striped shirt. He has to admit that it makes him feel a lot sexier. 

The jeans cling to every inch of his frame, elongating his legs and emphasizing his backside. 

He walks out of the closet and Lafayette’s mouth falls open. 

“Holy shit,” Lafayette groans, “You look hot as hell.”

John follows out behind him, grabbing Alex’s arm and squeezing it, “Laf’s right, you look so fucking good.”

Alex turns around, leaning up to kiss John on the lips. Alexander licks into John’s mouth and laughs when he feels John smile against his lips. 

“You assholes should just date already,” Hercules groans as Alex pulls away from the kiss. 

Lafayette scoffs, “If only Alex wasn’t so head over heels for somebody else,”

Alexander grabs John’s hand and pulls him towards the door, “I’m not listening to you, so let’s go, you bitches!”

Alex can hear the music from the club thrumming through the air, even before they get close to it. The night air breezes like the sweet summer air from the Caribbean that Alex misses. It reminds him of late nights on the Caribbean beach, warm sun on his skin, salt on his lips and sand between his toes. The night sky in beautiful hues before him. Purples, blues, pinks, and oranges. Crisp and beautiful. 

Lafayette laughs, loud and sharp, cutting through the peaceful nighttime. It’s nice though, reminds Alex that he is not alone, that he has people with him. People that love him. 

Alexander sighs deeply, the air rushing through his lungs and back out into the night. 

Lafayette, the King of the Clubs - as the whole French club calls him, walks straight past the long line waiting outside, and to the front of the line. He sends a flirty smile to the buff man standing outside, arms crossed and a frown on his face. He flashes a flirty smile - soaked in ludity and provocativeness - and the bouncer’s tough appearance desecrates just enough and he gives Lafayette a small smile. 

“They’re with me,” He murmurs slow and lowly, winking lasciviously enough to make Alex feel slimy. 

John, Hercules, and Alex follow behind Lafayette, flashing their ID’s to the bouncer. 

The four grab a table at the back, and John heads to the bar to get a round of shots. After the weekend Alex has had, he’s in desperate need of more than just a few. 

When he comes back, tray of tequila, limes, and salt in hand - Lafayette immediately grabs two shots off the tray and throws them back - one after another, without hesitation. 

Alex raises his eyebrows from across the table, “You okay?”

“Rough week.”

Alexander nods, reaching out and downing one of the shots. “Tell me about it,”

Lafayette groans, picking up another shot and sipping from it, “I think I am going to give up on Monsieur Washington.”

This surprises Alexander more than any of the events that have transpired over the past week. He thought that if there was only going to be one constant in his life, it would be Lafayette’s pinning and love for their history professor. 

“Seriously?” Hercules asks, sounding as surprised as Alexander feels. 

“It’s been six years, mon amis, I can only wait for so long. It’s like he doesn’t even know I exist. I can’t be in love with a man who’s never going to love me back.” 

Alexander reaches across the table and grabs Lafayette’s hand, “Trust me, I know how it feels. I think that putting some space between you and Washington could really help you.”

Lafayette gives him a smile before downing another shot and then pulling Hercules out onto the dance floor with him.

It’s sometime later that night that Alexander links arms with John and pulls him onto the dance floor. They move so intune and beautifully that it reminds Alex of when they used to date. How good they used to be together. 

He pushes back against John, hips grinding and arms searching with the music. His heart is pounding so loud that he can barely hear the music. It’s intense and he wishes he was drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol. Instead, he tosses his head back and lets the music overtake his body. 

\--

It’s around two that night that Alexander excuses himself and says that he’s thinking about taking his leave. 

“Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight? I don’t want to try to catch a cab back.” John asks, leaning over to speak directly to Alex. 

“Of course.” Alex responds.

“Do you really want to stay with the Real Housewives Thomas and Alex?” Herc murmurs under his breath and Alexander scoffs, “Thomas didn’t come home last night, and I’m assuming he won’t be home tonight either, so let’s go.”

John grabs Alexander’s hand and intertwines their fingers, and pulling him to the door. 

“We’ll see you guys later,” They wave goodbye as they slip out the club door. 

Once they get back to Alex’s dorm, he unlocks it and walks inside. John follows him and a second later, his best friend’s hands are resting on his hips. 

Alexander turns around quickly, leaning forward and capturing John’s lips in his own. It’s soft and gentle, alternating between quick pecks and long deep kisses. John’s tongue somehow finds his own and it feels so good, leaving Alexander on fire with need and burning want. 

Alex threads his fingers through John’s soft curls, pulling gently and licking deeply into his best friend’s mouth. 

He’s drunk on the feeling of hard muscle and bone beneath his fingers. 

John breaks away, breathless, and stares up at Alexander with wide eyes - pupils blown and lips red and swollen. 

“Alexander, we can’t do this.” He whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind Alex’s ear, “You’re in love with Thomas, I’m in love with Hercules. Alex, there’s so many reasons we can’t-”

Alex leans forward again and kisses John, pushing his tongue deeper into John’s mouth. He pulls back just enough to stare into his hazel eyes. 

“I want you,” He sighs, and John responds with a groan and then leans forward to kiss him again. 

Their lips meet repeatedly, intense kisses full passion and need. Alexander traces John’s bottom lip with his tongue, before licking behind his top row of teeth. 

John breaks it off with a whimper, “You don’t want me, Alex. You’re just lonely and drunk.”

It’s those words that make Alexander sit back, his legs draped over John’s, and his ass sitting almost directly on John’s hipbone. He looks down at John, and sighs, dropping his head down onto John’s chest, “I wish I was drunk.”

“You’re not drunk?”

Alex shakes his head, “Nope, you?”

John raises his eyebrows and his lips curve, “Unfortunately no.”

Alexander lets out a sigh and looks up into John’s eyes, so kind and understanding. 

“It’s hard to explain. I know we’re in love with other people, but I need you. I need to feel like, like someone wants me. I need to feel that intimacy. I agree, we can’t have sex but please just let me kiss you.”

John’s eyes soften and he nods in understanding. 

He reaches out and pulls Alexander’s shirt over his head, shivers when Alex reciprocates the action, leaving them both shirtless. 

He leans forward, slowly, and brings their lips together in a gentle kiss. Alex sighs into it, dragging his lips down John’s chin and to his neck. He kisses, licks, and bites at the soft skin on his best friend’s neck. He picks a particular part, right about John’s shoulder, and seals his lips around the skin - sucking on the skin and wearing it with his teeth. 

Alex bites, gently, and then runs his tongue over the abused skin. 

John flips them over, running his own mouth down Alexander’s neck and abusing the skin there. He sucks in a few different spots, scattering - what Alex knows is going to be hickies - all of his skin. Alexander sighs, losing himself in the feeling, and tossing his head to the side. 

And then he sees Thomas’s bed. With Thomas’s sheets that smell like honey, and Thomas’s things arranged too neatly around it. 

And something inside him just snaps. 

The first sob breaks from his mouth unexpectedly. He chokes out another one, fingers coming up to rest in John’s hair as tears start to fall from his eyes and onto the bed below him. The tears and sobs gather in intensity and his whole chest begins to shake with the force of them. 

John stops his kissing in an instant, looking up at Alex with worry in his eyes, “Oh God, are you okay? Did I do something wrong? Alex,”

“No,” He chokes out, “Please I need this, John. I need to feel you.”

John hesitates and Alexander feels panic rising in his chest. He feels claustrophobic and too hot and he  _ needs _ . 

It’s a second later that he feels the gentle press of lips against his own. His breath heaves and a sense of calmness comes over him as he kisses back. Their lips move slow and John tangles his fingers in Alex’s long hair, pulling gently.

“Just breath, Alex, I’ve got you.” John whispers. 

He rolls over onto his back and pulls Alex’s body against his chest. Alexander lays there, quiet, closes his eyes, and finally falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Change in Perspective  
> (AKA THOMAS'S CHAPTER)


	28. The Change In Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Thomas Jefferson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited chapter, and glimpse into Thomas's heart and head. Let me know what you think <3
> 
> -> As always, italics are flashbacks!! <-
> 
> (AND HEY WE HIT 100,000 WORDS!!)

Thomas sits frozen, eyes staring up at the ceiling fan above him. He is lost in thought, watching as the blades swirl around. Once, twice, and three times. Over and over and over again.He thinks if he had more time he could write a paper about how it’s a metaphor for his life. He notes with a sigh the particular twinge in his back, most likely from sleeping on Madison’s couch for the past week. It’s petty, he can admit, but Thomas can also admit that the thought of seeing Alexander and spending time with Alexander, makes him feel like throwing up. It’s not possible to sleep in the same room with him, five feet away, when back in Virginia they were cuddling every night. Staying at Burr and Madison’s apartment wasn’t the best option (completely because of the former) but it was still better than being so close to Alexander, and yet so so far away.

He thinks back to the night at Madison’s party when Alexander and he had their first real fight. More than just the petty arguing that haunted them during class. Their first honest fight.

_Thomas had just introduced Alexander to Dolley when he spotted James who threw a glance his way and then gestured towards the stairs._

_He looked at Alex, who was speaking to Dolley about LGBT rights, and figured that he’d be on this rant long enough that Thomas could slip away for a minute. He turned his back to the two and took several long strides to meet with his friend._

_“I need to speak with you,” James said, voice emotionless. He gestured to the stairs and began to climb them, Thomas climbing behind him._

_They walked into James’s childhood room and Thomas took a moment to admire the already smoking fireplace. He sat down on the bed and James took the seat next to him._

_“You and Alexander are good actors.” James murmured, without looking at Thomas._

_He sighed, “You know I’m not faking. Alex is the good actor.”_

_James finally turned his gaze towards Thomas, “If I’m being honest, it doesn’t seem like he’s acting, maybe-”_

_“Stop,” Thomas responded, sharp, “I don’t need false hope.”_

_James shrugged his shoulders and said nothing._

_Thomas took a second to compose himself and then continued, “I didn’t mean to get snappy,” He paused for a few seconds, dropping his head onto James’s shoulder, “I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad.”_

_James’s hand wrapped around Thomas’s shoulder and rubbed it, “I’m sorry,”_

_He let out a little laugh and turned to face his friend, “It’s okay. I love you, you know that?”  
_  
_“It’s one of the few things I’m sure of.” and then, “I love you, too.”_

_Then he stood up and made his way back into the living room where he saw Alexander drinking out of a bottle of champagne. He walked over and stood in front of him, "Hey."_

_No response._

_"Alex, what's wrong?"_

_Not a word._

_"Alex."_

_Silence._

_"What's going on? Did something happen with Dolley?" Silence, "You're scaring me?"_

_“Like you care. Fuck. You.” Alexander hissed, “Why the fuck did you even invite me to Virginia, huh?”_

_Thomas felt his shackles rise. Did Alex somehow figure out about his feelings for him? He decided to play dumb, "“Alexander,” Thomas says, "What are you talking about?"_

_Why’d you even invite me to be you’re fake boyfriend?” Alexander spit, “Why do you need me when you have Madison?”_

_"Alex," He murmured, raising his hands._

_But then Alex continued, "“Why don’t you leave me alone and go back to fucking Madison.”_

_His shackles rose instantly, and he took a step back. He needed to separate himself form Alex, or he too would get burned. Just like Maria and just like Eliza._

_When Alex got no response he turned muttering a, "Fuck this," before marching out of James's house._

_Thomas sighed, feeling the pain in his chest and ignoring it._

The clearing of a throat spurs him from his thoughts, and Thomas glances back across from him and sees his therapist staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He vaguely remembers her asking him something, but he can’t remember what, “I’m sorry, what was the question again?” Thomas says, trying to get himself to focus on the woman across from him and not get so lost in his thoughts.

Her frown dips in one corner, “I asked how your spring break was. You told me before you left you were going back to Virginia.” She glances down at her notes, “Something about asking your roommate to go with you.”

Thomas sighs and looks back up at the ceiling, wishing he had just skipped this session. “I asked Hamilton to go with me.” He pauses, “It was a good time.”

“The way you say that makes me think otherwise. Why don’t you tell me about what happened in Virginia?”

Thomas’s frown grows, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. It was a bad idea, and I never should have gone through with it. I should have just gone with Madison like I was planning on it.”

_“I’m sorry, you’re asking Hamilton?” James’s voice was surprised, and yet Thomas couldn’t figure out why._

_“You’ve known about my feelings for him. Why are you surprised that I’d ask him to go to Virginia with me?” Thomas responded._

_“I didn’t think you had the balls to ask him out, let alone ask him to meet your family.” James responded, voice sarcastically dull._

_Thomas bit his lip, “Well I’m not exactly asking him out.”_

_James narrowed his eyes._

_“I sort of told my mom I was dating someone and now she wants to meet the person I’m with.”_

_His eyebrow raised and his smile grew, “Oh so you’re going to pull some of that Wattpad shit. Pretend to be in love until you actually fall in love?”_

_Thomas rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yeah something like that.”_

His therapist looks back down at her notes, “But you were finally going to admit to your roommate how you feel, does he not return your feelings?”

“I technically never got the chance to tell him.”

Dr. Farris raises her eyebrow again, unimpressed, “We spoke about this before you left. We agreed that you should tell him how you feel.”

“Well, he’s in love with someone else, Angela, and I didn’t feel like getting rejected.” He says, sharp. Then he sees the look on her face and feels bad. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh.”

She smiles kindly, and huffs out a little of a laugh, “I understand, it’s just a defense mechanism.” A pause, “How do you know he’s in love with someone else, did he tell you that?”

“He got back with his ex-girlfriend. He didn’t have to tell me because it’s something I’ve already known. I was just hoping I could tell him and, I don’t know, maybe he’d realized what’s been in front of him this whole time.”

“Have you given any more thought to telling him anyways?”

“No, I’m in love with Alexander, and he’s in love with someone else and I’ve got to accept it.”

She jots down something in her notebook and Thomas sighs in frustration. He’s long since stopped asking her to tell him what she’s writing. “Why don’t you tell me about Alexander. Considering how you feel about him, I feel as though we don’t talk about him as much as you’d like.”

“What do you want me to say about him?” Thomas responds.

His therapist looks down at her notes and clicks her pen twice. “Why don’t you start with when you first found out you were in love with him?”

Thomas sighs, “February sixth of freshman year.”

“I’m actually going to ask you to lay back for me, close your eyes and imagine you were are again.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, and Dr. Farris laughs. “I know, I know,” She murmurs, “But do this for me, okay?”

Thomas groans, rubs his temples and leans back on the couch. He closes his eyes, stares at the darkness behind them, and retells the story of the night he fell in love.

_Thomas was back at his dorm, tired and studying for Washington’s next exam. He knew the basics but there was only so much about French History he could remember. Thomas had already finished his paper for Adams and now it was all about acing this exam._ _Thomas was curled up on his bed, laptop on his thighs and a ridiculous amount of prep work to go. Hamilton’s side of the dorm was empty, and Thomas had no clue - and no care - where his roommate had gone._

_He was in the middle of focusing on Marie Antoinette's influences when there was a loud thud against the wall. Thomas jumped and his laptop fell onto the floor._ _Thomas stared, frozen, at the door for a second and then there was another thud, this time on the door. He stood up, grabbing a bat from beside his bed and holding it up just in case. There was one more thud on the door, the jingling of keys, and then it opened and his roommate stumbled in._ _Alexander took one step into the room and then the next thing Thomas knew, he was lying face down on the floor._

_Alex let out a groan and then looked up at Thomas with wide eyes. “Oh my God, I’m gonna vomit,”_

_Thomas’s eyes went wide at the thought of Alex’s stomach acid on his brand new rug, and he took two wide steps until he was above his roommate. Then he reached down and grabbed Alex’s arms and helped him up._ _He wrapped Alex’s arm around his neck and helped walk him to the bathroom. The second they made it into the bathroom, Alex fell over the toilet and started to forcefully throw up. Thomas’s face scrunched up in disgust. Alex’s hair was a mess, falling down beside his face and Thomas felt like he should do more than just stand here like an idiot._ _Thomas kneeled down beside him and pulled Alex’s hair back. He threw up again, the sound making Thomas feel like throwing up as well. He rubbed Alex’s hair, murmuring soft words of encouragement as the man continued to empty his stomach._

_After what seemed like forever, he finally stopped throwing up and Thomas handed him a glass of water. He swished it in his mouth and then Thomas gave him his toothbrush that;s been smothered with toothpaste._ _Alex took it and scrubbed his teeth. Then he spit in the toilet and rinsed his mouth with more water._ _He sat the toothbrush down on the bathroom floor, which made Thomas cringe, and then turned to look at him._

_Thomas leaned over and rest his hand against Alex’s cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, running his thumb against Alex’s strong cheekbone. He looked like a mess, eyes rimmed red and deep bags under his them. But he was still beautiful._

_Alex looked into his eyes and smiled. It was a surprising gesture to get from Alex and it makes Thomas feel soft inside. Then, the next thing Thomas knows, Alex’s lips are pressed against his own. They were soft and pliant against his and then hummed and licked into his mouth and Thomas went weak. He kissed back for a solid second and then realized what he was doing and pulled away._

_Alex looked into his eyes and smiled that soft smile again, before leaning his head against Thomas’s chest, tucking his face into Jefferson’s neck, and letting out another pained groan._

_Thomas let out a breath through his nose, and brought his hand up to tangle in Alex’s hair, smoothing it gently. Then he looked up at the ceiling, realized what the feeling that was settling in his chest was, and sighed._

-

It’s that night that Thomas finds himself at James’s favourite bar, nursing a jack and coke, a Long Island Iced Tea, and a couple shots of tequila. He’s never been one for drinking, except for a glass of wine with dinner, but in cases when he does drink: he goes all out. The jack and coke is sweeter than he’d been expecting, when he thought of Jack Daniels he always assumed it was a bitter drink. The long island iced tea, however, tastes almost like plain sweet tea. It’s sweet and reminds him of Virginia. The shots are awful, but they are instrumental in his goal of getting plastered.

He’s attempting to get so black out drunk that he never ever has to think about his unrequited feelings for Alexander again. He curses at the unintentional reminder of his roommate and throws back another shot; the tequila burning the back of his throat and he grimaces around the taste. Following the bitterness up with a lime wedge. Jose Cuervo isn’t his favourite drink - never would be, but it sure does the job. Thomas spits the lime out and chases it with a sip of his sweet tea.

The sweet tea gives him the illusion of being back in Virginia, the warm sun and the sweet wind on his skin. Reminds him of Alexander, being drunk off the gentle brush of heated lips against his own, the taste of wine followed by need. He curses again and downs another shot, grabbing ahold of the bar to keep himself steady. It’s a second later that he feels a gentle, and comforting, hand on his back.

“This is kind of pathetic.” He hears James voice, sarcastic and tired, in his ear. “Drinking yourself to death over Hamilton?”

“Piss off,” Thomas hisses, taking another sip from his jack and coke. The world is starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges and it makes him feel just on the good side of queasy. “I love him so much. Why doesn’t he love me? Am I that hard to love?”

James continues to rub his back and takes a seat at the bar next to him, “You are the easiest man to love, Thomas. Hamilton is an idiot if he doesn’t see how incredible you are.”

Thomas smiles at his friend’s words, but then he remembers what exactly he’s up against, “But Eliza is so beautiful and kind, I can’t blame Hamilton for loving her.”

James’s hand stills, “I’m not sure if this is public knowledge yet, but I’ll tell you since it might make you feel better. I talked to Angelica, and she told me that Hamilton and Alex broke up.”

Thomas looks up at his best friends with wide, drunken eyes, “What?”

“I guess Alex told her he didn’t feel a spark and that he was in love with someone else.”

Thomas stares at him blankly, and then stands up from his chair, wobbling on his feet. “Oh my God, I have to go to the dorm. I have to tell Alex how I feel about him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re smashed?”

Thomas hums, “I spoke with Farris and she thinks I should tell him, and I need to tell him. I have to tell him even if he doesn’t love me back. Give me a ride?”

Thomas trips, reaching out and grabbing James’s hand and then laughing ridiculously.

“I’ll take you, but you need to sober up before we go anywhere.”

James pushes Thomas back down onto his bar stool, and he allows it. Thomas motions to the bartender and orders a glass of water.

He takes a sip of it and starts planning.

-

By the time he’s sobered up enough to make the decision that he wants to tell Alexander, he’s got his speech practically memorized. He knows what he needs to say, fuck the consequences. He loves Alexander, and he thinks Alex might just love him back. James drives him to their dorm building and let’s him off at the front steps. He stops Thomas, puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, and wishes him good luck. Thomas grins like the lovesick idiot he is and climbs out of the car, shutting the door behind him and giving James a salute as he drove away. He turned back towards the building and took a deep breath before walking inside and taking the stairs two at a time.

Anxiety climbs his stomach as he nears their dorm. He’s nervous, but he’s so fucking ready to do this. To finally say the thing he’s been dying to say since that one night Freshman year.

He ends up right outside their dorm room and presses his ear against the door. All Thomas can hear is silence, and he prays to God that Alex is home.  
He fumbles with his keys and unlocks the door, reaching out and putting his hand on the doorknob. He freezes, unable to go any further, and then he remembers James’s words from earlier.

“I guess he told Eliza he didn’t feel a spark anymore, and he was in love with someone else.”

He uses that knowledge to gather his courage, takes a deep breath and pushes open the door.

“Alexander, I have to tell you-” And then he freezes.

Alex had told Eliza he was in love with someone else, and Thomas had foolishly thought Alexander was talking about him.

But he wasn’t, was he? Because there he was, snuggled fast asleep against John Lauren’s chest, clothes lost, hickies obvious, and sex hair evident.

His heart sinks at the sight.

Thomas looks at his own bed, doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that it’s been slept in since the last time he stayed here, and sits down stiffly. Like a train or car accident, Thomas can’t make himself look away from the mess in front of him. It hurts every part of him, makes him feel like he’s drowning, but he can’t look away.

Thomas looks at the couple, snuggled close together, fingers intertwined and snoring. Eventually the sight of them together brings Thomas to the brink of nausea. He stands up from his bed, grabs his duffel bag he stores under his bed, and shoves clothes into it.

He’s been staying at Madison’s apartment for the past few days, and he figures it might be time to take Mad’s up on his offer of making it a more permanent arrangement. Thomas just can’t bear the idea of having to listen to Alex and John. He zips the bag and tosses his over his shoulder and leaves the dorm without a single glance backwards.

Thomas walks to Madison’s apartment, letting the cool New York wind clear his mind. Eventually, he makes it though and takes the elevator. He doesn’t think he has the energy to climb the stairs.

Thomas knocks once on the door and then Madison’s opening it. He takes one glance at the look on Thomas’s face and the bag on his shoulder and opens the door wider, motioning for him to come inside.

Madison turns away, muttering under his breath just loud enough for Thomas to hear his words, “Hamilton, you fucking bastard.”

Thomas lays down on the couch and replays his best memories in his head.

_“Dude, get in here, we’re playing spin the bottle.” Martha grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the living room._

_Thomas followed her and grabbed a seat on the couch. A second later Alex walked in, smiling at the group that had assembled and plopping down next to Thomas._

_“Are you enjoying yourself, darlin?” Thomas asked, wrapping his hand around Alex’s back. The man smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Thomas’s cheek, and then dropping his head down onto the man’s chest. “I’m having an amazing time, Thomas.”_  
_Spin the bottle passed quickly, along with the alcohol in the two of their systems. Alex was obviously exhausted, so Thomas leaned over and whispered, “Are you ready to go to sleep, Alex?”_

_Alex nodded, curling closer and yawning._

_As much as Thomas wanted to stay here, he pushed the man off his lap and then helped him up._

_They murmured goodbye to the general area and then headed towards the stairs. Madison stopped him for a second and whispered into his ear, “You weren’t lying when you said he was a good kisser.”_

_Thomas scoffed out a laugh and shook his head. They walked up the stairs, Thomas doing most of the grunt work of pushing the other man up them. When they reached Thomas’s bedroom, he turned to Alexander, “Get ready for bed. I’ve got to go speak with James and then I’ll be up, okay?”_

_Alex nodded, “Okay,” and Thomas turned to walk out of the room._

_Then he heard Alexander say, “Please don’t kiss him.” and he froze._

_He glanced back over his shoulder questionably, “What?”_

_“Madison,” Alex repeated, “Please don’t kiss him.”_

_Thomas felt himself soften. Alex didn’t want him to kiss Madison. They might not be completely where he wanted, but it was a start. “I won't.”_

_Thomas left, going back downstairs to give James a few basic instructions. Kick everyone out, lock the door, bring the kegs inside._

_Then Madison wished him a goodnight, and he was back on his way upstairs._

_He stepped inside his room to find the lights off and Alexander curled underneath his comforter. At first he thought he was asleep, but then sees the shine of his eyes in the dark._

_“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” He asked, voice raspy and quiet. He was so exhausted. The booze had left his system and left him with the need to sleep._

_He heard Alex sigh, “Sorry to disappoint.”_

_Thomas chuckled and stripped out of his clothing, going to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth before returning._

_He slid into the bed and Alex immediately rolled close to him. The man, whom Thomas loved so much, was so close, looking up at him through those beautiful lashes._

_Then Alex leaned forward and brought their lips together. This kiss was perfect. And the best part was that it was just for them. There was no audience. It was only them._  
_Thomas hummed, licking his way into Alex’s mouth and loving the wrecked growl that escapes his love’s mouth. It sounded desperate and primal, ripped from the back of his throat. He felt all consumed as he rolled over to pin Alex beneath him, spreading his body out on top of Alexander, lips following the path of his fingers._

_He wanted to touch everywhere. Alex’s hair, sides, stomach, legs, butt, thighs. He felt drunk on the feeling of skin beneath his fingertips, and he needed more._

_He tangled his fingers in Alexander’s hair and kissed him even more desperately, and then Alex is softening the kiss. Making it sweeter and gentle._

_Thomas took the hint and broke away from the kiss, looking up into Alex’s shining eyes. “We should get some sleep.”_

_Alex nodded, rolling over to rest his head on Thomas’s chest, “I’m so glad I’m here.”_

_Thomas didn’t know if Alex meant he was glad he was in Virginia or if he was glad he was in Thomas’s arms, but it didn’t matter, because he was happy both ways too. So he pressed a kiss to his love’s hair and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here too, Alexander.”_

_“Goodnight Thomas.” Comes a soft reply._

_He pulled Alex closer to him, Thomas’s fingers running through his hair, “Goodnight baby.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Consequence


	29. The Consequence/The Mistress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally 2 seperate chapters, smashed together for your - and my - convenience. Mmm let me know what you think?
> 
> Also I made some plot changes so check the new chapter count :)

Alex blinks awake, cursing his internal alarm clock for waking him up so damn early all the time. He stares up at the ceiling, hoping that maybe if he doesn’t move, he’ll be able to drift back to sleep. It does nothing more than make Alexander feel annoyed, so he rolls over and cuddles closer to his best friend. John smells and feels familiar. The mix of lavender shampoo and coconut lotion makes him feel less like the world is ending, even when every bone in his body is screaming that it is, and that he needs to run if he expects to make it out alive. Curling up next to John, in the tiny dorm bed makes Alexander feel like it’s freshman year again, like when they were dating and the world was so much more simple. It was John and him and nothing else mattered. 

Alexander stretches his arms above his head and blinks the sleep from his eyes. He sits up in the bed, smooshed against the wall and comforter pooling around his waist. He takes a second to admire John’s tan skin and to push his envy away. The sun is streaming through the windows, casting the room in a sleepy softness. He feels like, in that moment, nothing could ruin his happiness and feeling of content. It is, of course, when he goes to stand up that Alexander first notices the drawers on Thomas’s side of the room are open and he can see the wooden bottoms. It takes him less than a second to put the pieces together.

How Thomas’s drawers are open, his clothes are missing, and how the lamp by the doorway is on. Even when Alex remembers turning it off when they entered the room. Unless they got robbed, which is unlikely, Thomas must have came home last night. And to make that fact even worse, Thomas must have come home last night and saw John and him lying together. It’s not hard to figure out what it must have looked like. They were both almost naked, covered in bruises, and sharing a bed. 

He feels sick at the thought of Thomas seeing him like that, or the idea that Thomas might think something that’s not true. Alex doesn’t want him to think he wants John, when all he wants is to curl his body around the man he’s so pathetically in love with.

Alexander stands up from his bed and stretches again, listening to the cracking bones in his back. He turns back and pushes his hand against John’s shoulder several times, trying to wake the man up.

“Whaddu want?” John groans, rolling over onto his back and covering his eyes with his hand.

Alex huffs out a laugh and turns on his heels, forgetting about trying to wake him and instead making his way into the connected bathroom. He strips out of his pants and turns the water on as hot as he can stand it. Alexander steps inside, carefully not to fall on his ass (again) and let’s the steaming water falls onto his skin. It’s scorching hot, but successfully washes away the tension he holds in his muscles.

He stands there for a long time. Focusing on nothing and letting the water run across his back and drip down the sides of his face. He shampoos and scrubs every inch of his body, trying to get the lingering feel of John’s fingertips off him. He doesn’t regret last night, but he can admit that it probably never should have happened. 

Alexander steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and squeezing the extra water from his hair. When he catches a glimpse of his neck in the mirror, Alex feels like screaming. He knew he would have hickies. He was, however, not expecting he would look like he got mauled by a wild animal.

He presses his finger against one bruise right on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and hisses at the feeling as it runs through his body. His neck has always been extremely sensitive and he’s always been easily bruised, but this is incomparable. 

Alex drops his hand down to his side and focuses on getting dressed. He dresses sloppy, like usual, wearing an old tee shirt and a pair of ratty jeans. His head is pounding even though he hardly drank anything, and he’s in desperate need of a coffee fill up. Washington told him years ago that he needed to cut his reliance on caffeine before he became an addict. Who would have thought the man knew what he was talking about?

He puts on his old converses - covered in mud from the last time he went out - and grabs his keys and cell phone off the bedside table. Alex kisses John on the forehead before exiting the dorm room and locking the door behind him. 

He savors the walk to his favourite coffee shop, a little privately owned shop down the street. He first discovered it Freshman year, and became hooked immediately. It was a homey space, within walking distance of his dorm, right on the way to his first class. The coffee was always good, and when he had enough money to spare, Alex found their pastries mind blowing. After a long day of classes he loved nothing more than to curl up with his laptop in the back corner, working on homework while hot indie music filtered through the establishment. When the outline of the building came into view, Alex’s hand twitches at his side. He is desperate for the feel of caffeine on his lips and the smell of coffee flooding through his nose. He jogs the last couple of feet, steps inside, and lets out a sigh of relief. It’s then that he notices who’s standing at the counter. 

It is like the universe is telling him to go fuck himself or something.

There - dressed in grey sweatpants, a hoodie, his glasses, and looking entirely miserable - is Thomas fucking Jefferson. And next to him, James Madison.

The need for caffeine suddenly dissipates, and Alexander is planning on just ditching the coffee and running towards the door because he’s not ready for this confrontation. Especially after what he supposes Thomas walked into last night. Right as he’s about to dive behind the nearest potted plant, Thomas casts a glance behind him and right at Alex. Their eyes lock and Thomas’s body goes rigid. Alex can feel the air drop in degrees and he gets frozen to the spot.

Thomas accepts his coffee from the barista, smiles at her, and turns to follow James towards the door. He looks pathetic with his fingers gripping his cup, and eyes downcast. He looks nothing like the Thomas Alex had grown to know, or even like the over confident asshole from before Spring Break. It’s that moment, that Alex realizes how badly he fucked up. He decides in that moment that he is not going to give up this easy and takes a step to block Thomas’s path out the door.

“Thomas,” He starts and then those brown eyes glance up and meet his own, and he promptly forgets everything he ever wanted to say. 

“Alexander,” Thomas says, voice too polite to be sincere, “How’s John?” He asks, as his eyes flicker down to the bruises on Alex’s neck. Alexander’s frown grows and he holds a hand up to cover it.

Thomas scoffs a bittersweet laugh and then walks past him, without another word, and out the door. James shoots him a sympathetic look before following his best friend.

But Alexander isn’t going to give up. He forgets his need for coffee and follows them outside. He pauses right outside the coffee house, and shouts after the man he loves. 

“Thomas,” He yells, ignoring the few people that look his way. All that matters is the little fault in Thomas’s step and then the pause that follows. Thomas turns back around to look at Alex, disappointment and hurt shining in his eyes.

“When are you coming back?” Alex asks, voice broken and worn out. He’s so tired of fighting. He just wants to quit. 

Thomas looks at James and shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know.” Then he’s walking away again without a second glance back, and Alex’s heart breaks even further. 

-

Life waits for no one. Alexander finds this out the hard way when he wakes up one morning and realizes that he has to go back to school. Spring break is over and his life will go back to the daily grind of misery. Getting up early and staying up late to finish papers that Washington will never find good enough. Working so hard for a degree he’s probably never going to use, to get a job he hates, to get money he desperately needs just to keep himself alive. He doesn’t see the point in it anymore.

Thomas had moved back into their dorm a few days ago, but it’s been radio silence since. He leaves before Alex wakes up and gets back late enough that Alex is too tired to try and start a fight. Some nights, Alex isn’t even sure he comes home. 

He gets up each morning, takes his pills, throws on some sweats and shows up for his 10 am lecture. It’s a monotonous routine of annoyance and frustration that’s threatening to run him over the edge, or push him far enough to convince him that it is a good idea to jump.

Life just seems so worthless. He doesn’t understand what he’s supposed to be doing, or what the big fucking purpose is. It seems like he’s wasting away, until the next thing he knows is that he’s middle-aged and miserable, just waiting to die from something like cardiovascular diseases from eating one too many cheeseburgers.

It all just seems so pointless.

The worst part of it all is that Thomas doesn’t just ignore him in the room, he pretends he doesn’t exist in class either. Gone are their days of debating and arguing, replaced by Alex arguing with the professors or himself, hoping that maybe he’ll piss Thomas off enough to join in. It’s pathetic in a way that Alexander can’t even deny. 

After Washington’s class - Alex’s last one of the day - he stays behind to turn in his paper about John Locke. It’s been weeks since he started it, and after all the suffering, he’s finally finished with it. 

All the other student’s file out and Alex moseys behind, waiting for the classroom to empty before he walks up to Washington’s desk. He hasn’t spoken with him one on one since that night in Virginia when Alexander was smashed and heartbroken, and thought it would be a good idea to spill his - and his best friend’s - dirty little secrets. 

“Professor Washington,” He says as a greeting, voice professional and kind.

Washington glances up at Alex and smiles at him. It’s an intimate piece of him that Alexander - and other students - rarely sees and it relaxes him. The man obviously doesn’t hate him for his drunken idiocy, or he would have asked him to leave already and he definitely wouldn’t have smiled at him.“I needed to turn this in.” He murmurs, setting the paper down in Washington’s turn in tray. 

“Have a good day, sir.” Alex says, turning and trying to get away before Washington says something else. He doesn’t make it two steps before Washington speaks though.

“I’m in love with him, you know.” Washington’s gruff voice says, and Alex freezes in his spot. He looks over at his shoulder and sees the defeat and exhaustion in every detail of Washington’s features. He just now realizes how  _ old  _ the man looks. Washington’s still the hottest professor Alexander has ever had, but he looks like he’s aged ten years since Virginia. 

“What?” Alex says, voice hoarse. There is no way he could have heard him correctly. 

“Lafayette. I’m in love with him,”

Alexander turns to face his professor completely. He’s more than shocked by the comment, but he knows exactly what he needs to say to get Washington to stop worrying and to do something. “He loves you too, but if you’re going to do something about it, then you need to do it now. He’s going to give up on you. Lafayette’s tired of hurting and you could stop it, but you have to talk to him.”

Washington’s eyes flutter and he looks at Alex sharply, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to take your own advice.” He crosses his arms, “You’re a hypocrite. How can you stand here and tell me this, when God knows you need to do the same thing about Thomas.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Washington scoffs a laugh, “If you’re that blind, then you’re better off alone.”

He doesn't point out Washington's own hypocrisy, instead Alexander just swallows and nods, “Just go before you say something we both will regret. Here,” He jots down Lafayette’s address on a sticky note and hands it to Washington, “Don’t make the same mistakes I have. Just tell him while you have the chance.”

Washington looks down at the neon note in his hand and bites his bottom lip. “Turn the light off on your way out.” And then he’s walking with long strides to the door.

Alexander smiles after him and rolls his eyes. He could make so many young love jokes, but it’s too sweet for him to. The thought of Lafayette finally getting what he wants is enough to keep Alex’s mouth shut. Alex flips Washington’s classroom lights off and shuts the door behind him. He figures he could use time to study and makes his way towards the library. He’s got a test coming up, and whether or not Alex cares, he needs to pass it. He didn’t go through everything in Virginia just to give up on his education the second he got back. He’s finally got the money to continue classes, and he’s not going to fail out. 

Alexander grabs a table in the corner of the library and puts his nose in his textbook, reading about the way WW2 affected the United States’s economy. He jots down a couple of notes here and there, only important things that really stick out to him, before moving onto the next chapter: how WW2 affected Women’s Rights in the United States. 

A little while later, the chair across from him screeches against the floor and someone slides into the seat. He’s overcome by a familiar vanilla perfume, and glances up, mouth dropping open just a little. 

In the seat across from him, red lips pulled over gleaming teeth, is Maria Lewis-Reynolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear it's not what you think. 
> 
> Next Up: Lafayette Interlude


	30. The Lafayette Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of our couples finally figures out that life's only as hard as you make it. 
> 
> Pun intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh sweet sweet Washette. If it's not your couple, feel free to skip this chapter.
> 
> Hang with me here, we're just getting to the best part. I think you all will be happy soon. 
> 
> Let me know whatcha thought :)

Lafayette stares at himself in the mirror, the frown on his face growing. He was never going to be good enough for Washington, and he was foolish for even attempting to try. He was never going to be beautiful enough, or smart enough, or daring enough. There was no way he was going to be good enough. 

It’s a joke, honestly. Washington doesn’t even know he exists. He cannot help but wonder that if  only he was skinnier, his nose thinner, his lips bigger. If only he was hotter and smarter and better. Then maybe Washington would love him back

Lafayette wipes the few stray tears that fall down his cheeks and smiles at himself in the mirror. It’s a bunch of bullshit, he was perfect and if Washington’s crinkly old ass couldn’t see that, then Lafayette was the one who deserved better. He grabs a tube of mascara and applies a heavy coat onto his lashes. He forces himself to smile and breathes out a deep sigh, feeling a little more like himself than before. 

He needs a pick me up. Lafayette grabs his wallet, locking his apartment door on the way out. He needed a coffee and someone to vent to. 

Lafayette took the long way to his favourite coffee shop, the fresh air making him feel even more like himself.  He has known for a long time now that life isn’t fair. His parents were dead by the time he became a teenager, leaving him with loads of money he couldn’t legally inherit until he was twenty-one. But even then, it wasn’t the money he wanted. It was his parents back. 

Lafayette pulls open the door to the coffee shop, the smell of recently brewed coffee flooding his senses. It immediately picks him up, making him feel like the world isn’t as bad as it seems even when it seems to be falling apart around him. 

Elizabeth Schuyler walks out from the doors behind the counter and smiles when she sees him. Her smile fades quickly and her lips dips in the corners when she sees the look on his face. 

“Hey there, are you okay?” She asks, voice soft and caring. Lafayette can see why Alexander had fallen so hard for her. 

He slumps against the counter and shrugs. He was never close with her when Alex and her has been dating, but at this point he’s desperate for anyone who can lend an ear and maybe some advice. Eliza reaches out and rests her hand against his. “Come on, let’s get you some tea and you can tell me about what’s bothering you.”

She hurries to make two cups of English Breakfast, and then walks around the counter to the booth farthest from the door. 

Elizabeth sits down and pats to the spot in front of her. Lafayette, miserable as hell, drags himself close to her and drops down into the seat. 

She pushes the cup towards him and takes a sip from her own. Her eyes are like two large crystals, drawing him in and hypnotizing him. 

“Shouldn’t you be working? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Eliza brushes off his concern with the wave of her hand, “Peggy’s in the back so I’m taking a well deserved break to chat with a friend. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so upset.”

And, yes, Lafayette can definitely see why Alex fell in love with her. If he wasn’t for sure that Thomas and Alex were soulmates, he would smack the latter upside the head for letting such an angel get away. 

“I’m in love with someone, and I don’t think he returns my feelings.” Lafayette explains, “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help but wonder why I’m not enough, you know?”

Eliza presses her hand to her chest, “Trust me, I know exactly what you mean. But it’s not stupid, nothing about love could ever be stupid.” Her eyes soften, “Does this man know how you feel about him?”

Lafayette thinks about it for a moment, “No, if I’m being honest I don’t even think he knows I exist.” He pauses, “I just don’t think I can do this anymore. The pinning, the day dreaming, while I know nothing is ever going to happen.” 

He takes a long sip from his cup, the tea burning his tongue, but soothing his frazzled nerves. It was a good thing Eliza had given him tea instead of coffee like he wanted. Somehow he doubts the buzz would help him, plus English Breakfast reminds him of rainy mornings with his mom back in France. 

“I’m probably one of the last people that should be giving relationship advice, all things considered. But for what it’s worth, you’re an amazing guy and anyone who can’t see that must be the biggest idiot in the entire world.”

He feels tears prickle behind his eyes at her words. “Thank you, Eliza.” He murmurs, and she pats his hand encouragingly. 

“I’ve got to get back to work before Peggy burns the place down, but I want you to know something. I dated Alex and I know that you guys are friends but I want to be your friend too. I’m not some packaged deal that only comes with him. If you ever need anything, I’m here. Okay?”

He nods, unable to speak, and she stands from the table. Her lips curl into a gentle smile and she sends him a wink. He watches her walk back behind the counter, leaving him in a haze of her perfume and kindness. 

As he leaves the shop, her words finally start to soak in. He’s a fucking amazing person and if Washington can’t see how good he is, then fuck him. Lafayette can do better anyways. He needs someone to help him see how incredible he is, not someone who causes him to doubt everything he’s ever known. There are plenty of people who want him, plenty of people that would kill for the opportunity he’s been laying at Washington’s feet. And, you know what, Lafayette is done with settling. He’s done standing idle and praying that Washington will love him back. If Washington’s going to be a pussy, then Lafayette’s going to move along. 

When he gets home, Lafayette starts a hot bath. He lights a couple of candles and drops a “Cheer Up Buttercup” bath bomb into the water. He watches as it begins to melt, the yellow foam filling his tub. He turns on an old playlist and lets the music flood through his bathroom. He steps in, letting the water cover him completely. Lafayette leans his head back against the tub and takes a deep breath, the smell of the candles and the bathbomb flooding his nose and making him relax. 

He wipes his hands on the towel and then sends a quick text to Adrienne. 

To Adrienne My Love:  _ Do you want to go out for drinks later? I could use a pick me up. _

It’s not a second later that she responds. 

From Adrienne My Love:  _ Of course!! I miss you so much. Meet at Joe’s at 9? _

He sends back an affirmative and then slips deeper into the tub. 

At seven-thirty, Lafayette finally climbs out of the bathtub because his fingers have become prunes. He dries off quickly and then walks to his bedroom to try and find something to wear for tonight. He’s just about decided on an outfit when there’s a steady and persistent knock on the front door. Lafayette furrows his brow, wondering who the hell would drop by right now. He puts on an old tshirt and a pair of sweats before making his way towards the door. 

Just as he reaches for the doorknob, he hears the voice from the other side speak. 

“Lafayette, please open up.”

Washington’s voice was the last thing Lafayette had expected to hear on his doorstep at eight o’clock at night. He stares blankly at the door, frozen to the spot, unable to get the courage to open it. 

He had promised himself that he was done with this. That he was done with this pathetic pinning. But Washington was here. He was here and he was so close. The only things separating them: a few feet, Lafayette’s stubbornness, and a wooden door. 

“Lafayette, please. I have to explain. I need you to let me tell you. I need you, Lafayette, please. Just open the door and we can talk.” A pause, “You need to know how much I want you.”

That is what finally cracks through him. The thought that even after everything that happened, Washington deserved to know how much Lafayette wanted him too. 

He unlocks the door, and almost falls backwards at the sight before him. Washington looks like shit. He’s in his usual school outfit, but his sleeves are rolled up and his glasses have fallen down his nose. He has dark bags beneath his eyes and a rugged and tired look about him. He honestly looks like the definition of complete and utter exhaustion. 

Washington’s eyes widen when he sees Lafayette, and takes a step forward to pull the younger man into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry for being an oblivious idiot, but God I’m in love with you.” Washington says, voice cracking around the words as his head rests on Lafayette’s shoulder. It makes his heart twist heavy in his chest. 

“It’s okay,” Lafayette says, more for Washington’s sake than his own, “We were both idiots.” He supposes he could have summoned the courage to tell Washington himself. 

Then Washington goes and presses his lips against Lafayette’s. The gesture takes him by surprise and his knees go weak when he realizes that he is kissing George Washington! He clutches desperately to Washington’s shirt, licking his way into the man’s mouth. He feels like he’s floating as Washington’s hands circle around his waist, keeping him steady and pulling him closer. 

Lafayette reaches up with one arm to grasp his neck and pull their lips closer together. 

Eventually, they run out of breath and Washington breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at the man in front of him. The exhaustion is still present in his eyes, but the haunted look has vanished. 

“If we decide to do this, then we have to tell the school, and people are going to talk, and they’ll say terrible things about us. Horrible things, and I don’t want to put you through that.”

Lafayette shushes him with a quick kiss, “I can handle it. I’d do anything for you.” He kisses him again, frantically, “I’ll drop your class, transfer to Adam’s to finish getting my credits.”

Washington’s brows pinch as he looks down at Lafayette, “That would probably be best.”

Lafayette looks at Washington’s lips as he talks, and realizes with a pang to his heart, that he can kiss him now. 

He surges up, bringing his lips to Washington’s, and then kissing him hard. He tangles his fingers in Washington’s shirt and pulls him towards the bedroom. When the back of his knees hit the bed, Lafayette falls backwards and onto the bed. He climbs up until he’s resting on the pillows, and Washington climbs up to join him. 

Washington traces a senseless pattern across his face and Lafayette goes weak. 

“I’ve loved you since I first saw you at Freshman orientation.” He confesses, needing to get that heavy weight off his shoulders. 

Washington smiles - a little sheepish - “I’ve loved you for about as long, but I always thought you were dating Hamilton.”

Lafayette sputters at that, “He was dating Eliza!”

“Yeah, I figured that out over spring break. He was drunk as shit and accidently let a comment go about your feelings for me and it made me do a lot of thinking.” He sighs, “That is honestly the only thing I’ve been thinking about since he mentioned it.”

“And what did you come up with?” Lafayette asks, biting his lip as he waits for Washington’s answer. 

“That I need you. No matter what happens, or what people say. I need you, Lafayette, and I don’t think I’m ever going to stop needing you.” 

His lips twitch up and he leans forward to kiss the other man, pulling the blankets up over their heads and letting out a deep sigh. 

If Washington and him could work things out, maybe that meant Thomas and Alex actually had a chance too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes he does text Adrienne and tell her that he's going to be late. 
> 
> Up Next: The Consequence/The Mistress Part 2
> 
> (On a side note- any Dean Winchester fans out there? If so come yell about him to me on Tumblr. I just finished season 5 of SPN and I need people to talk to about it because I'm shook)


	31. The Consequence/The Mistress Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria Lewis-Reynolds has a confession to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close now! Only five more chapters of this baby left!!
> 
> i’m drunk and my mouth tastes like tequila so i’m sorry if this chapter has any stupid mistakes i locenyiu all very much

_Alexander let out a groan, stretching his arms above his head and sighing. Maria rolled off of him, pulling the comforter up to cover her bare breasts as she ran one of her hands through her tangled curls._

_“Is it just me, or does sex get better each time?” She hummed out loud, more of a thought to herself than a statement to Alex._

_He responded regardless of her intent, “Yeah, I think it does.” He chuckled lightly at that, “But the first time was pretty stellar.”_

_She rolled over on her side to look at him, “But compared to that last time there?”_

_“You’ve got me,” He admitted, “Nothing tops reverse cowgirl though.”_

_She snorted, collecting her hair in her hands and tying it at the nape of her neck. Alex followed the long line of her neck, eyes stopping at the dark bruise above her collarbone. He had noticed it early, but was a little too occupied to mention it._

_Alexander reached out, tracing the edge of the bruise with his thumb, “What happened? Looks like it’s pretty fresh.”_

_His words must have struck something in her, because she huffed, rolling onto her back and pulling the comforter up far enough to hide the discoloration from sight._

_“Maria,” Alex said, voice full of warning. She gave him a cold glare, saying nothing and rolling farther away from him._

_He rolled his eyes, annoyed, and hissed, “Sorry for caring, but if you want to act like a bitch then you can get the hell out of my room.”_

_She rolled back over towards him immediately, dark eyes wide and lips pouting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that. I just tripped, it’s really nothing.” Her eyes fluttered, “You know I care about you too. You know I’d do anything for you.” She murmured, tracing her hand down his chest._

_He bit his lip at her words. Something was obviously wrong, but it wasn’t really any of his business. If she wanted him to know, then she’d tell him. Alex didn’t want to be the guy that pushed and pushed, ignoring the fact that she obviously didn’t want to talk about it. They had sex. It wasn’t anything more than that._

_“Okay,” He said, pressing a rough kiss to her lips, and rolling on top of her._

“Well, well, well.” Maria’s voice interrupts his memory of her, and he looks up, almost completely forgetting that she was in front of him, “Who would have thought I’d find you, Alexander Hamilton, at the library of all places?”

She stretches her arms above her head and yawns slightly, reminding Alexander of a cat getting ready to curl up for a nap. “If I’m being honest, loverboy, I didn’t just happen to stumble upon you. I came to ask for a favour.”

“You know what? No.” Alexander spits out at her, surprising himself with the fury in his voice, “My life is already enough of a shit show, I don’t need you dragging your ass back in it to somehow fuck it up even more. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? Destroy everything.”

His words are harsh, and Maria’s lips instantly snap shut, the careless spark in her eye disappearing. He can see poorly hidden hurt in her eyes now, and he wonders if she’s used to hiding how badly words hurt her.

A second later, she smiles - bitter - and shakes her head, “You’re right. It was stupid of me to even bother you.” She bites her lips and lets out a cold and humourless laugh, “I just want to say that I’m sorry for everything. For ruining everything with you and Eliza, for seducing you, for fucking up your life. I take full responsibility for what happened, and I just wanted to apologize for fucking up your life.”

She pushes the chair back from the table, and goes to stand but Alexander’s words stop her.

“Wait,” He mutters, hating himself for caring about her even after everything that happened. “We are both equally responsible for what happened. I choose to cheat on Eliza, and that was my decision, and I’ve accepted that. I’m sorry too, I know everything that happened fucked up your life as much as it fucked up mine. So I’m sorry, and I forgive you.”

She discreetly wipes a tear from her cheek and Alexander pretends like he didn’t notice, for her sake. Maria sits back down in the seat and smiles at him, “How is Eliza?”

He rubs his temples and sighs, “We broke up again, but it was for the best. I’m in love with someone else, and I’m pretty sure she has a thing for someone else too.”

This seems to catch Maria’s attention, and she visibly perks up in her chair. “Do you know who it is?” She asks, a little too rushed and then clarifies, “The person she’s interested in, I mean.”

“No, I have no idea.”

Maria deflates a little in her seat, seemingly zoned out, so Alexander coughs to get her attention before he speaks again, “What was that favour you wanted to ask?”

Her cheeks flush, “Oh nevermind. Yeah, that was stupid. I shouldn’t have even-”

“Maria.”

She somehow flushes even darker, brushing a stray curl out of her face. “Okay so awhile ago I started to talking to this girl on MatchMeet. I fell for her pretty quick, and she helped me get away from James, and then we decided to meet up. She said she’d have a copy of Catch 22 on the table, like in that one movie. Well, I showed up at the restaurant and it was Eliza sitting there in the back corner with Joseph Heller’s book in front of her.” Maria confesses, “I freaked out and left, messaging her some stupid excuse later that night. The girl I’m in love with is the same girl whose boyfriend cheated on her, with me.”

Alexander can admit that he figured something like that had happened. He feels bad for her instantly. “Listen to me. When I dated Eliza, I was never the person she deserved. And yet, even after I cheated on her and embarrassed her in front of the whole university, she still took me back and gave me another chance.” He tells her, “What I’m trying to say is that Eliza is the most selfless, forgiving, loving person on this planet. She is pure and good, and if you love her then she deserves to know it. If Eliza can forgive me, then she can forgive you too. Especially if she feels the same way about you that you feel about her.” He says, “Just give her a chance, okay? She might surprise you.”

Maria smiles at him, a little bit of the worry gone from her eyes, “Thanks Alex.” She says, pushing her chair back and standing up again, “You speak so kindly of Eliza, but you’re a really good guy too. If Thomas can’t see that-” She stops herself. “I’m sure you already know.”

“It doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”

Maria smiles at that, “Well in that case, if he doesn’t love you, then he is an idiotic dick face.”

He laughs at her words and smiles as she walks away. A certain weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and he’s thankful he had given her the time to apologize and talk. He realizes that life is too short to keep all these pathetic grudges. It’s as he’s sitting there, watching Maria walk away with an extra bounce in her step, that Alexander realizes how much his heart aches.

Without thinking, he pulls out his phone and types a message to the man he loves.

To Thomas: Hey. Can we talk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The Moment We’ve all Been Waiting For


	32. The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Cues "Can't Fight This Feeling"*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well welll. Look what we have here.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to juggernaut-jet on tumblr because you've has been with me since the beginning and i doubt i would have ever made it this far without your support. 
> 
> I hope you like it.

He does not get a reply back. It does not really surprise him, but every time he is reminded of the message without a response, a sharp pain settles in his chest. Alex was far too exhausted to go back to the dorm after he spent the night studying at the library, so he crashed on John’s couch.

He wakes up the next morning, sleep in his eyes, and tries to figure out his next move. Alexander had attempted to reach out, to take the first step in repairing everything that he fucked up, but it obviously wasn’t enough. Sure, he can admit that Thomas deserved something better than a text, but with the man completely avoiding him, it was hard to find a better way to express his feelings. He decides rather quickly that he needs some help figuring this out. So he packs up early, slips out while John is still snoring, and walks to Lafayette’s.

It is a quarter after nine when he gets there, and he takes the elevator up. He sends a smile to Melvin, the landlord, and knocks politely on Lafayette’s door. He can hear the rustling of clothing and then quick steps on the hardwood. A second later the door opens, and Lafayette’s surprised eyes meet his.

“Alex!” He says, and then his smile morphs into something more genuine, “Come in. What are you doing here?”

Alexander takes a step inside and turns to look at his friend, “I need some advice.”

Lafayette hums, before he shakes his head with a small smile, “Let us sit down? Something tells me this is going to take a while.”

He leads Alexander into the kitchen, and they take a seat at the counter. Lafayette gives him a look and Alex is so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost does not realize the burly professor standing by the stove. When he finally notices Washington, Alex jumps and almost falls out of his chair.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” He says, pressing his hand against his chest. It takes a second for the fact to settle in his mind that his professor is here with his best friend, at said best friend’s apartment. “Oh my God!” Alex groans, “Did I interrupt you guys or something?”

Washington looks less than impressed when he responds, “No, Alexander. Contrary to your experiences, two adults can be at the same house together without anything nefarious happening.”

Lafayette sends a harsh look in his - whatever they are to each other’s - direction, and Washington closes his mouth, “I have to run home, so I will give you two some privacy.”

Lafayette stands up quickly, pecking a quick kiss onto Washington’s lips. He pulls back a fraction and then leans back in to deepen it. A second later they both pull away and Lafayette smiles. It shocks Alexander. He has not seen a smile that honest and happy from Lafayette since, well since ever.

“I’ll be back.” Washington says, softly, against Lafayette’s lips and then he is grabbing his phone off the counter and leaving without a single glance back.

Lafayette presses his hand to his mouth - most likely to hide the ridiculous grin he has - and takes his seat next to Alexander.

“Thank you, by the way.” Lafayette tells him, reaching out and grabbing Alexander’s hand.

Alex’s eyes flicker up to meet his, “For what?”

“George told me what you said to him. How you convinced him to come to me. It means a lot that you approve.”

Alexander shrugs, smiling a little, “Don’t get me wrong, it's still a little weird, but I want you to be happy. If you’re happy, then I'm happy.”

“I’m very happy.” Lafayette tells him, “Now, what did you need my help with?”

Alexander lets out a sigh, “I’m in love with Thomas.”

Lafayette blinks. Alexander stares at him.

“Oh! Am I supposed to act surprised?” Lafayette questions him, “I’m not an idiot, Alex. I know you love him, just like I know he loves you.”

Alexander had kind of figured that his feelings were not completely unrequited, but hearing Lafayette say that makes his mouth go dry.

“What?” He asks, just for clarification.

“You must be dense. Thomas has loved you for so long. Since before you were even roommates. Do you think I just decided to get an apartment at the last minute for fun? No, Alexander. Thomas and I were supposed to room together and then I found out about his little crush and sort of, ah, threw you two together. It took forever, honestly, I was about to give up, but here you are.”

He pales at this. It was not fate that put them together as roommates. It was Lafayette.

“He told you how he feels?”

Lafayette lets out a snort, “Accidentally is probably a better what to put it. We had gone to his house and gotten drunk off wine. We were doing face masks - these strawberry ones I think - and he accidentally let it slip.” Lafayette explains, “When he woke up the next morning, he pretended like I did not have a clue what I was talking about. I can hold my liquor, though, and a Lafayette does not forget anything. Actually, you know what? The morning you left for Virginia, I whispered something in Thomas’s ear? I simply reminded him of that night, and how he practically pledged his love and allegiance to your ass.”

“Oh my god,” Alexander says, a million things flying through his head. Thomas has loved him since the beginning, and he probably still loved him. “I have to go.”

He sprints down Lafayette’s stairs, splurges on a cab, and gives the man directions back to his dorm building. Alexander’s foot taps impatiently in the back on their way there. He resists the urge to open the door and run the rest of the way. Eventually, the building comes into view and Alex’s heart jumps to his chest.

He pays the driver leaves a generous tip, and then starts towards his building. He swipes his ID, and all but sprints up the stairs. Alexander ends up in front of his dorm room and his heart is in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Thomas is in the dorm room, or if he will even listen to a thing Alex has to say.

With his heart in his throat, he pushes the key into the lock and opens the door.

Maybe Karma has decided to give him a break, because there Thomas is, sitting against his bed with a book in his hands. He looks up at the sound of the door and his eyes harden when he realizes who it is. Alexander takes a deep breath, makes his way to his bed, and pulls out the duffel bag he had hid there. Alex unzips it, double checks the contents, and turns around to drop it at Thomas’s feet.

“I can’t accept your money.” Alexander states, and even though he is terrified, he does not look away from Thomas’s eyes.

One of Thomas’s eyebrows shoots up, but his face otherwise remains impassive as he continues to stare at the book in his hands, “You can keep it. It was part of our deal.”

“The deal made everything seem a lot less complicated, didn’t it?” Alexander says, “And since the entirety of it wasn’t made clear at the beginning, I think that it’s void.”

This is what gets Thomas’s attention. He looks up, sharp, and he snaps his book closed. “What do you mean by that?”

“You didn’t think it was important to mention that you were in love with me?” He sees Thomas’s composure crack, but continues on, “That’s pointless, though, because I’m in love with you too. So, because of this conflict of interest, I cannot accept this money.”

Thomas’s mouth falls open, “You what?”

“I’m in love with you and I’m sorry,” Alexander repeats.

“But, Eliza. You and here, and, what?” Thomas asks him, obviously not understanding.

Alexander cannot help the smile that crosses his face as he sits down next to the love of his life. “I was so caught up on the past and I was so scared of what I felt for you that I convinced myself that I wanted her. It’s funny, though, because she’s an amazing girl, but she can never compare to you. I’m so in love with you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile. Your horrible taste in music, the way you kiss, the way you taste. How you wrap me in your arms. The way you say my name.” Alexander tells him, his eyes welling with tears. It’s the first time out loud that he’s admitted how deeply in love he is.

“I’m just stuck on you. Your intelligence and your compassion. The way you love your family. The way you walk and breath and talk. I am so ridiculously in love with everything about you.” A single tear falls down his cheek as he stares unabashedly into Thomas’s eyes, “Your shitty politics and clothes. I thought I could convince myself not to love you, and all it did was convince me that I am never going to get over you. I see you everywhere I go, I feel you in my bones. God, Thomas, I’m so stuck on you. And I just- Mmph.”

His words are cut off by the quick press of lips against his own.

The touch of Thomas’s lips against his own makes Alexander feel like he is at home. The fireworks burst in the sky, the fat lady sings, the angels get their wings, and Alexander is in Heaven.

Thomas’s hand comes up to press Alex closer, and Thomas drags his tongue softly across Alex’s bottom lip. He sighs a deep breath, opening his mouth and letting his lover inside. Alex groans as Thomas licks into his mouth, rubbing his palate in smooth, soft strokes.

His breath is stolen from him, and Alexander has to pull back. He breaths in a deep breath, eyes blown as he looks at the man across from him.

“I love you too,” Thomas says, “But I never thought you were going to shut up.”

Alex lets out a relieved laugh and smiles.

“But I’m not taking the money back. You need it for next semester. I love you and I know how important your education is to you.” He must see Alexander rearing for a fight because he shushes him, “What if it’s a loan. You can pay me back every penny.”

Alex thinks about it for a moment and realizes that it sounds solid. This way he does not feel like he is using Thomas for his money.

He nods at Thomas, “That sounds like a good deal.”

Thomas surges forward to kiss Alexander again. This time is harder, faster. A reminder of that night in Virginia. Toes curling, mouth’s searching in Thomas’s bed. He pushes Alexander down onto the bed, climbing on top of him to kiss him deeper. He breaks away for a second to chuckle, “It’s the art of the compromise, dear.” Then he is leaning back into kiss Alexander again. A second later, Thomas breaks away and Alexander wants to scream. 

Thomas just winks, shushes him, and asks, “Do you want this in writing too?”

Alexander leans forward, shutting Thomas up with his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: The First (Real) Date


	33. The Real First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Alexander get the first date they both want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes its been awhile, but I'm back with another chapter!!
> 
> Not to shamelessly self promote but I'm writing another Jamilton story called, "Then Sweet Oblivion," I think if you like this story, you'll like that one so check it out and let me know what you think!
> 
> without further ado,

Alexander pulls the door open, stepping inside to his “History of Western America” class. He’s balancing a coffee and a donut in one hand, and his laptop and the class book in the other. Of course, the one time he forgets his satchel is the only time he needs it.

Like every other Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning, he slides into his seat in the front row. He sets down his computer and takes a quick bite of the donut before setting it on the rim of his coffee.

He barely makes it through the lecture, because like most things in his life, it’s monotonous. There is only so much Western America to discuss so they end up going ridiculously in depth into the simplest events.

Eventually though, Dr. Clark lets them go with only twenty pages of reading to cover by the next class.

Alexander steps out into the crowded hallway, bodies bumping up against him as he tries to make his way down the hallway. It’s overwhelming, and he’s twenty seconds from screaming and shoving everyone away, when a firm hand comes to rest on his shoulder. He turns around, annoyed, until he sees the tall, handsome man the hand belongs to.

“You know I about punched you.” Alex says, but reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Thomas’s.

The other man just snorts, “Even after I got up early to bring you this?” He asks, gesturing to the satchel that’s slung around his shoulders.

“Well just because you’re a Southern gent, doesn’t mean I won’t accidentally punch you.” says Alexander, standing on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. (His boyfriend!)

It’s chaste, but still makes Alexander sigh. He pulls away just enough to smile at Thomas before leaning back in to kiss him again.

When they pull apart, Alexander’s breathless and smiling. It’s still hard to believe he got lucky enough for Thomas to forgive him. He’s smiling so happy, lost in Thomas's eyes that it takes him a minute to realize how many people are staring at them.

And when he says people, Alexander means the vast majority of the people filling the hallway. Thomas’s fingers squeeze his own in a comforting motion, and then Thomas is walking and pulling Alex behind him. He catches up to his boyfriend, fitting himself against Thomas’s side and avoiding everyone’s eyes on them.

It’s just before they walk out the door that Alexander hears someone whisper, “Does this mean they're going to be dicks to everyone together now?”

All he can do is snort and follow Thomas outside.

//

Once he’s done with classes for the day, Alexander heads back to the dorm room. He prefers a night in with Thomas over going out any day. 

He gets back to the dorm, changes out of his clothes and into a comfy pair of sweatpants. Alexander curls up on Thomas’s bed and waits for his boyfriend to get back. Thomas’s bed is softer than his own, and it smells like Thomas’s cologne. 

Alexander rolls onto his back and stretches, just as the door opens and Thomas walks in. 

“Hey there,” says Alexander with a wink, scooting closer to the wall and patting the small space next to him, “I missed you.”

Thomas gives him a small smile as he strips out of his pants and trades them for pajama pants. 

“I saw you this mornin’ but I missed you too,” Thomas murmurs as he crawls into bed next to Alexander. It’s so small they’re practically on top of each other, but Alex can’t find it in him to care. He’s spent so much time away from Thomas that he needs this. 

He curls into his boyfriend’s arms, as Thomas’s fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I still can’t believe you liked me for so long and said nothing.” Alexander whispers, his breath soft against Thomas’s skin. The hand on his back pulls him closer and Thomas murmurs, “If I’m being honest, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you’d ever like me back, and I was dealing with my own shit and I didn’t think you needed that.”

Alexander looks up through his lashes, “I’d be crazy not to love you, and I have so much shit that we were drowning in it, or did you forget ignoring me for weeks?”

“Ignoring you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” says Thomas, staring up at the ceiling and then smiling, “You put both of us through a lot of shit.”

“But we’re here.” Alexander responds, “And we’re okay.”

They lay there like that for forever until the buzzing of a phone interrupts them. Alexander rolls over so Thomas can pull it out of his pocket. There’s one missed face time call from Mary. 

Alexander can feel the sigh that leaves his boyfriend’s body as he calls her back and scoots closer.

“Hey bitches!” Mary’s smiling face greets them and Alexander can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. During the past weeks, he has felt so utterly alone. The whole time he thought that not only did he lose one Jefferson, but the man's whole family.

She leans back and John Bowling appears next to her. He is a little more calm, but still seems happy to see them.

“Alexander, thank God!” says Mary, “Thomas has been in such a bitchy mood recently, slap some sense into him, won’t you?” Alex smiles at that, “Oh and I missed you so much, life around here is so boring without you.”

“I think I’ve already smacked that sense into him, but I’m glad you called. I missed you too.”

Mary smiles at that and starts to speak, but Thomas quickly mutes his phone’s mic.

“I think we should tell them.” Thomas says.

Alexander’s eyebrows raise, “That we were faking it?”

Thomas nods.

“Well John already knows,” Alexander explains, “But if you want to tell Mary we can.”

His boyfriend licks his lips and unmuted the phone.

“Anyway, that pretty much summarizes my life, what have you two love birds been up to?” Mary says, lips curling as she looks back into the phone.

“Mary, we have something we need to tell you.” Thomas starts slowly, “Alexander, and I weren’t dating. It was all fake so I could get mom off my back.”

She stares, confused, into the camera. “I’m sorry what?”

“We were fake dating.” Alexander clarified, although it was already clear.

“But, I, oh, what? You guys are like the best actors then because you’ve had us all convinced. I mean, just the way you spoke about each other made me for sure you actually were in love.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. We did love each other, we just didn’t know it was mutual.” Thomas explains, looking down at Alexander and smiling.

“This is the plot of a fucking book. At least you idiots finally figured it out. Damn, how did I not see it? John, did you see it?”

Her fiance shakes his head no, and Alexander decides to let him keep his secret.

“Elizabeth!” Mary calls off camera and a few seconds later she relays the information.

Alexander can hear Elizabeth’s scoff, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

Alex smiles and burrows deeper into his boyfriend’s shirt.

//

It’s the next day that Thomas finally convinces Alexander to let him take him out on a date. After their first fake date, Alexander didn’t know how they could top it. 

He goes over to John’s to get ready. He showers, dresses in a simple outfit, ties his hair back, and squirts cologne on his neck. 

Thomas picks him up from John’s place and it feels like the first time all over again, but this time it’s so much better because he’s not confused about what he feels, and he’s not faking anything. 

He’s ridiculously in love and he can show it. 

Thomas decides that since their “first” date was a fancy dinner, their real first date would be much simpler. Alex agreed, he wanted to focus on Thomas and not on what they were doing. 

Alexander gets dressed in a simple jean and a tee shirt combination, sprays a little cologne on his neck, and prepares for his first real date with Thomas. 

Thinking about the fact that he’s actually dating Thomas, and that Thomas returns his feelings sets his stomach alive with fire. 

He finds himself staring at John’s bed and contemplating that first morning when Thomas asked him to pretend to date him. Alex thinks back to how much he despised this man, and how desperate he was for money, how badly he needed it. 

He can remember the panic and shame flooding his body when he spoke to the bursar's office. How pissed he was that life was so unfair. That Thomas could toss around so much money so carelessly, the egotistic asshole, with his fancy vineyards and a million story mansion. (none of which he knew was true at the time.)

It’s strange to consider how much his life has changed since that moment. How he’s become so dependent on a man he hated. How his entire perspective and ideology about this one man and the baggage that comes with him has changed. How much his opinion has changed. 

He knows ignorance is the root of all evil, and he was ignorant. He had thought Thomas could be described by a few simple adjectives strung together and yelled at the top of his lungs in Washington’s classroom or their dorm room. Or bounced off the roof of some shady club Alex and John visited when Alexander needed to get drunk and rant about the constant pain in his ass. 

But then he spent spring break with him, and everything shifted.

He was more than those rude adjectives. He was more than a rich pompous dickbag. 

Thomas Jefferson was a kind, gentle, funny man, with 50 foot high emotional barricades and a barely pieced together excuse for a drawbridge. 

And yet, Alexander got through to him. Even before he was trying, if what Lafayette says is true, then Alex had breached those walls years before he ever considered wanting that possibility. 

Maybe he had always had these feelings too. Somewhere deep in the back of his stubborn skull, he knew this. The way his eyes would search the classroom for Thomas as he sat down, the way Alex always pushed for a fight. The way he craved Thomas’s attention. 

But if he never went to Virginia, Alexander would never have acted on his feelings. He would never have been standing here, looking at John’s bed, contemplating how in love he is with his roommate. Or, maybe, he might have. Maybe even if he didn’t go to Virginia, Alexander would have figured out that his interest in his roommate was more than just a passing thought. But then he would probably be here, staring at his bed, contemplating how in love he was with his roommate, and how his roommate could never love him back. 

So things turned out all right, he supposes, sure there was heartache beyond belief. His heart was crushed twice, smashed under the leather of Thomas’s foot, and Thomas’s was crushed too, stepped over by Eliza’s high heels. But it worked out. Somehow, someway, it all came together. 

Alexander doesn’t want to consider the alternatives. 

“Hey, are you ready?” Thomas asks, stepping inside the room. 

Alex wishes he could freeze this moment. The softness in Thomas’s eyes, the curve of his nose, the expectantly gentle smile on his face. 

This is the only ending he can imagine. The only one that means anything. The only one he’s ever wanted. 

“Yeah,” says Alexander, chuckling when he realizes he’s been staring at his boyfriend. “Yeah, let’s go.” He reaches out and takes Thomas’s velvet soft hand in his own. 

There isn’t a single other alternative he can consider. 

They end up getting ice cream at the campus food truck. Thomas gets mocha cake batter and Alex chooses vanilla. 

They sit at the little tables with their rainbow umbrellas and Alex smiles at the way the sunlight reflects off Thomas’s eyes.

It’s the first date Alexander has always wanted. Thomas leans over to wipe some ice cream off Alex’s nose, and then there’s a soft kiss. 

It couldn’t be more perfect if Alexander had written it himself. 

It was just him and Thomas in a sea of strangers, but they were the only thing that mattered. 

He is still smiling up at his boyfriend when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He doesn’t bother checking it, though, he’s a little busy at the moment.

**One New Text Message From: Eliza Schuyler**

**Party at my house tomorrow! Come & bring your boyfriend. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you can tell where my writer's block hit the hardest. 
> 
> Up Next: The Jealousy


	34. The Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters left!
> 
> Let me know what you think & don't forget to check out my other WIP, "Then Sweet Oblivion"

Thomas and Alex, thankfully, spend the entirety of the day under the covers. They don’t even have sex, they just cuddle and lay close to one another. It had been too long since they were pressed together under false pretenses in Monticello, that Alex had forgotten how Thomas felt next to him. He forgot how his heartbeat felt. The smoothness of his chest and the softness of his hands.

Eventually they are forced to get up and get ready to go to Eliza’s party.

Alexander dresses how he literally dresses for every other occasion, and Thomas wears that ridiculous purple jacket of his, and Alex can barely resist the urge to rip it off his body and have his way with him. (Yes he looks ridiculous, but so damn hot.)

They walk to Eliza's, enjoying the soft setting sun on their skin. They get there twenty after eight, and Thomas’s arm immediately goes to wrap around Alex’s waist at the first sight of their host.

“Down boy,” Alexander whispers before he pulls Thomas after him to greet Eliza.

She looks beautiful as always, but Alex can’t understand how he almost chose her over Thomas.

“Alex, you came!” She says brightly when she sees him, her eyes travel up his arm to Thomas’s face and her smile somehow gets brighter.

She pulls Alex into a quick hug before turning to Thomas.

“I am so happy for the both of you.” Eliza says, her words genuine and sweet. Thomas must sense what Alex has already told him (about them being friends only) and offers her a smile. “Thank you, Eliza, and thank you for inviting us tonight.”

“Of course, wine’s in the kitchen. Oh, and Angelica’s looking for you Thomas!”

Eliza disappears and is replaced a second later by a flutter of red. Maria speaks before he can ask why the hell she’s _here_.

“Hey, Alex, can I talk to you?” Maria asks, her red lips offering him a shy smile. She glances up at Thomas, “Alone.”

“Yeah, one second.” He tells her before turning to Thomas. He’s not fast enough to catch the steel glare Thomas sends Maria. “I have to speak with her for a minute and then I’ll be back, go and find Angelica. God knows she has something to yell at you about. You need to be more careful with what you post on facebook.”

Thomas makes a noise of agreement, his eyes never leaving the place where Maria’s arm is on Alex’s as she leads him away.

They find a small alcove by Eliza’s bathroom that they slip into.

“Is everything okay? No offense, but I’m surprised to see you here.” Alexander says once they’re alone.

Maria sighs, “I don’t know what you said to her, or what you did, but thank you.”

“What are talking about?”

She leans closer and, for the first time that night, he gets a clear view of the gold chain around her neck. There hanging above her breast is a gold and beautifully cursive, “E”.

“You and Eliza?” Alexander asks, surprise coloring his voice, “You guys are together?”

“Well I stopped by the coffee shop she works and was sitting there working on a paper and she took her break and asked if she could join me and I said yes, of course, and we hit it off and then we went on a date that night and I kissed her and then we’ve been hanging out since and she gave me this necklace like an hour before people got here and asked me to be her girlfriend and I, of course, said yes and I’ve never felt this way and I can’t believe she asked me out, so I just wanted to thank you for whatever you did.”

“Woah,” Alexander says as she catches her breath, “That was the longest sentence ever. But I honestly didn’t do anything, Maria, she must have just realized how great you are.”

Maria smiles and her fingers go to the E on her neck.

“You don't have to thank me because I didn't do anything, but if you're dating her why the hell aren't you out there with her, instead of in here with me.” Alex says, leading the way out of the hidden spot.

Maria smiles, “Let's go then."

After getting Maria back to Eliza, he finds Thomas around the same place he left him, staring blankly at the countertop with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Hey,” Alexander says, coming up to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s back.

Thomas doesn’t reply.

“Hey,” Alex repeats, turning to look Thomas in the eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“You done talking to Maria?” Thomas asks, annoyed and venom dripping off her name.

Alex stiffens at the hate in the other man's voice, “You’re seriously jealous right now? After everything that’s happened, you’re jealous of Maria?” He hisses under his breath. He doesn’t want to make a scene, but he’s not going to let Thomas be ridiculous.

“In case you forgot, _Alexander_ , you cheated on your last significant other with her.”

Alex takes a deep breath

Eliza walks out of the kitchen before Alexander can speak again, her fingers intertwined with Maria’s.

“I told you all there was a big announcement to accompany this dinner, and here it is.” She lifts the hand that’s holding Maria’s. “I asked Maria to be my girlfriend and she agreed. So we are official.”

“I told you, you have nothing to worry about.” Alex whispers to Thomas as everyone speaks excitedly to Eliza and her girlfriend.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas begins.

Alexander shakes his head, ghosting his fingers over Thomas’s face, “I did cheat on Eliza, and I know I’ll have to earn your trust. But I’m going to tell you right now that you have nothing to be jealous of. Nobody could ever hold a candle to you. I was blind before, but I know it now. I am so in love with you.”

Thomas finally looks him in the eyes and offers him a small smile, “I love you too.” and then Alexander drops his head onto his boyfriend’s chest and sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Blanket Explanation


	35. The Blanket Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks are in italics! 
> 
> Well that's technically the end! We've got a small epilogue but please let me know what you think!! About this chapter, the whole thing, your thoughts on literally anything. I love reading your comments!

When they get back that night from Eliza’s Alexander is burning with questions. He quickly changes out of his clothes and into a pair of soft sweatpants and then curls up next to Thomas on his bed.

“You’ve loved me for a long time, but I’m dying to know when you first figured it out.” says Alexander softly, resting his head on Thomas’s chest as the other man plays with his hair.

“It’s a long story, are you sure you want me to tell you now? You must be exhausted.”

“Please Thomas, I want to know so bad.” Alexander pleads.

“Fine,” Thomas agrees, “But no interrupting.”

Alexander scoffs but mimes zipping his lips shut and throwing the key away.

“Okay, I was back at the dorm Freshman year. You had gone out with John and Hercules I think, there was a frat party or something. You bitched me out hard before you left. Then you stumbled back into the dorm later that night drunk out of your mind.”

_Alexander groped blindly at the doorknob, eventually getting it to turn and pushing the door open to his dorm room. He stumbled inside, tripping over a pile of books by his bed and landing facedown on Jefferson’s rug._

_“Hamilton.” Jefferson groaned, turning on his side and yawning. Just barely could he make out the dark figure laying on the ground. He blinked sleepily, leaning over to flick his lamp on._

_“Why are you on the floor?” He asks, blinking further and trying to clear his eyesight._

_“Imdhrink.” said Alexander into the floor._

_Thomas sighed, “What?”_

_Suddenly the man on the floor sat up, his face going ash white, “Oh my God I’m gonna puke.”_

_Thomas jumped from his bed, all but dragging Alexander to the bathroom connected to their dorm room. He sat his roommate down in front of the toilet and let Alex’s head rest against the cool porcelain._

_He heard Alex take a deep breath and then there was the sound of him throwing up. Thomas winced, reaching down to pull Alex’s hair out of his face and hold it back as he spewed up his guts. He might not have be very fond of the kid, but he had also been in that same position many times._

_A second later, Alexander finished vomiting and rinsed his mouth with the water that Thomas handed him._

_“Hey Tommy.” Alex said, his voice a soft whisper._

_“Hm?”_

_“Tommy,”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Thomas?”_

_“Yes Hamilton?”_

_“Thomas Jefferson?”_

_“What the fuck do you need?” Thomas hissed, turning around to glare at the man still hunched over the toilet. He looked so pathetic that Thomas felt sorry for him._

_“I just wanted to say that you’re hair is very beautiful.” Alexander said softly, “Like a million inky black halos surrounding you.”_

_Thomas swallowed at the drunken poet like words._

_“Thank you, Hamilton.”_

_“You’ve actually very handsome, Thomas.” Alexander said hushed, “Very handsome.”_

_“Alright,” Thomas interrupted, “Let’s get you to bed.”_

_Alexander laid there limp as Thomas carefully lifted him up and carried him back to his own bed. Thomas pulled the blanket back and let Alex shuffle in before he pulled it up to tuck it around Alex’s neck._

_Alexander reached out, one hand landing on Thomas’s cheek, his thumb ghosting over Thomas’s lip, “You’re so very beautiful.”_

_“Goodnight Hamilton.” Thomas said, reluctantly pulling Alexander’s hand from his face and retreating back to his own bed._

_He laid there in the dark until Alexander’s breath evened out and then after checking to make sure he was still alive, Thomas finally accepted what he already knew._ _  
_

_He was kinda sorta in love. It wasn't just that night either that he had considered the possibility, he'd been feeling something for awhile, but he knew it the second Alex said he was beautiful. Not only was he in love, but he was fucked._

“And then you bitched the fuck out of me the next morning and I realized we’d probably never be together. So, with the exception of Lafayette, I decided to keep it to myself.” Thomas finishes explaining.

Alexander stares at his boyfriend, “What? That never happened! I was never that drunk.”

“I swear, Alex, you were smashed. I was two seconds away from taking you to the hospital.”

Alex softens, “Well thank you for taking care of me. I’m sorry I don’t remember and that I was so shitty.”

Thomas scoffs out a laugh, “I expected nothing less. Now it’s your turn, tell me again how you figured out you knew you loved me.”

“We were out exploring your estate and you were pointing at these trees and talking about them, and you were so excited and I realized how ridiculous you were and how much I loved that about you. I think I knew it before, deep in my bones somehow, but that’s when I really knew it.” Alexander tells him again, “I am so ridiculously into you.”

Thomas smiles at that, leaning up to peck Alex on the cheek, “You’re so cheesy.”

“Says the man that was in love with me for years and only told his friend because he was drunk!”

“Fuck off,” Thomas growls, and Alexander curls closer to his chest. “I have more to tell you if you want to hear it.”

Alexander perks up, “What else is there?”

“I was actually going to have James be my fake boyfriend, but then James found out about my feelings for you and faked a ‘previous arrangement’ so I would ask you.”

“Madison knew?” Alexander gaps, “But when I overheard you in the kitchen-”

“We were talking about how there was no way his plan to get us together over spring break was ridiculous because you were being so obnoxious I was about to jump in the Potomac.”

“And the night at Madison’s house. When you were upstairs talking?”

“We were talking about how the break had only made me love you more, but that I honestly thought you didn’t reciprocate.” Thomas explains.

Alexander swallows, “I don’t know if I ever apologized to you for that night. For getting drunk and running off and worrying you.”

“It’s alright, there was a miscommunication and you overreacted, typical Hamilton.” Thomas teaches, and Alexander scoffs, smacking him on the arm.

“I hate you.”

Thomas laughs, “Yeah I bet you do.”

Alexander curls closer to his boyfriend and chuckles, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you put up with me so I guess that makes you ridiculous too.” says Thomas.

“Fuck off.”

“You fuck off,” Thomas responds

Alexander rolls his eyes, “I said it first.”

“I said it first,” Thomas mocks, his voice too high to be anywhere close to Alex's. 

“I fucking hate you.” Alexander says laughing, leaning down to kiss Thomas.

Thomas breaks away for a second to whisper fondly against Alex’s lips, “I fucking hate you too, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Epilogue


	36. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been an incredible journey. A huge thanks to my beta zaosa on Tumblr, I know towards the end our schedules didn't mash very well and it was hard for us to find the time, but thank you for every word you fixed and every edit you made. I appreciate it more than words can describe. 
> 
> Another huge shoutout to juggernaut-jet, lemannsocks, and Momma_Time for your constant support and love. I would have stopped writing this story decades ago without your help. 
> 
> And a huge thank you to every. single. one. of you that commented, kudosed, bookmarked, and read this story. Thank you for your encouragement, your kind words, your constructive criticism, and your patience. When I first started writing this book I never ever expected it to be received like it has been and I can't thank you enough for that. You've done wonders for my confidence and I can't wait to continue writing Jamilton (and other relationships) stories for you guys, because you are the best fandom I could ever have asked to write for. I got the warmest welcome and the kindest comments, and you all helped me feel included and I can't thank you enough for that. 
> 
> Okay enough tears and bullshit! On with the sweetness,

“Mr. Vice President, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but are you fucking stupid?” says Alexander sarcastically, standing at the podium of their student Senate floor.

“Watch your language, Senator Hamilton.” Washington barks, cutting through Alex’s words.

“My apologizes Dr. Washington, but I’d like to say - once again - that the Vice President has no idea what he’s doing. He let Senator Jefferson interrupt me! That’s not how this works! This is my bill, my turn to speak. They have to ask for my permission!”

“Senator Hamilton, will you yield the floor to Senator Jefferson.” Vice President Hancock asks and Alexander scoffs into the microphone, “Abso-fucking-lutely Not!”

“Senator Hamilton!” Washington barks, sharper, “I believe I told you to watch your language. It doesn’t matter if you’re willing to yield the floor, your time to discuss your bill is over.”

“What if I was going to filibuster!” Alexander says sharply, and everyone in the room takes a collective sigh.

“I suggest we just take the vote already.” Senator Madison - the majority leader - says, and all the Republicans are soon to agree.

Alexander scoffs and sends Senator Jefferson a dark look. Jefferson rolls his eyes and takes his seat, while Alexander follows suit.

“All in favor of Senator Hamilton’s proposal to assume individual department debt say ‘aye’.” Hancock says, and there’s a collective “aye” that echoes through the chambers.

“And those opposed?”

An almost equal echo of “nah’s”.

Hancock’s head falls down onto the table and he sighs deeply into the microphone.

“Spoken vote then,” Hancock groans.

“Hamilton?”

“Aye, of course.”

“A aye or nay is all I need, Senators. Livingston?”

“Aye.”

“Randolph?”

“Nay.”

They make the way down the list, and Alexander watches as Madison silently leaves the chambers before his name is called.

“Madison?”

Silence.

“Absent vote for Madison. Wilson?”

“Aye,”

By the time it gets to Jefferson, Hamilton literally needs one vote to win.

Alexander can hear Senator Pinckney talking behind him about how there’s no way Alex can get his bill through because there is no way in hell Jefferson would ever support something that was completely against his party’s platform. Alex just smiles and waits for Hancock to speak.

“Jefferson?”

Alexander watches as Madison stands at the back of the chambers, with his hands crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

“Senator Jefferson? Your vote?”

Silence. Alexander sends a hard glare in Thomas’s direction.

“Aye.”

A chorus of shouts erupts from behind Alexander, someone shouts, "What the fuck?", Washington barks at them, and Thomas just rolls his eyes.

Hancock seems pleased and he hits the gravel, “Perfect. Senate Bill 4423, “Merge That Bitch”, passes to the House for first reading.”

Alexander blows Thomas a kiss and laughs when he gets the middle finger in return.

-

After the session ends, Alexander stands outside waiting for Thomas to finish explaining himself to their whip before he also exits the chambers.

“Hey,” Alex smiles, pleased, and plants a quick kiss on Thomas’s lips. His boyfriend reciprocates sweetly, before threading their fingers together.

“Thanks for your vote, babe.” says Alex cheekily, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Thomas rolls his eyes, “I hate you and I hate that I agreed to this. Madison’s going to die if he has to miss another vote.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?” asks Thomas, “The compromise we made?”

Alexander nods, he watches as Thomas looks down at the intertwined fingers and then pulls Alexander against his chest, “I could never.”

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Well idk yet but be on the lookout for another Hamilton story coming soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on my tumblr: willieverbesatisfied


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